


Bedside Manner

by yespolkadot_kitty



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Eventual Smut, F/M, London, What Was I Thinking?, What am I doing, a lot of nonsense really, contemporary rom com, just a little fluffy fic, sweet romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-08-13 21:28:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 21,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20180998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty
Summary: Our lovely Tom is a doctor at a London hospital.Lara sprains her hand punching her cheating ratbag fiance and needs to go to A&E.And so it begins....





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadybugsFanfics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadybugsFanfics/gifts).

> Inspired by the lovely work of @ladybugsfanfics!
> 
> P.S All doctors and healthcare staff are AMAZING.

“Won’t be long now. Everyone else left here no longer looks worse than you.”

Squinting in the too-bright clinical lighting of the hospital A&E department, Lara turned her head to glare at her best friend Sam. “Thanks, that makes me feel  _ much  _ better.”

Sam beamed, ignoring the sarcasm. “I’m sure a doctor will be along any minute. Can I get you anything? Polos? Twix?”

“There is one thing.”

“Name it,” Sam said confidently.

“Ctrl Alt Delete button for the last twelve hours?” Lara asked, without any real hope.

“Erm, well…… I was thinking more along the lines of things available from vending machines. I’m good, but even I am not  _ that _ good. Sit tight, darl.” Sam kissed her smackingly on the cheek and went off in search of sweets and glossy magazines, both of which Lara would appreciate if she didn’t get seen any time soon.

She stared morosely ahead of her at the near empty A&E department, and shifted on the hard metal chair. A uniformed orderly was pushing a metal trolley of linen past. Lara saw her reflection in it, and winched. Did she really look that bad? She reminded herself of the “before” pictures on before and after make over adverts.

Maybe if she closed her eyes, it wouldn’t be so bad. But, when she did, and she gave it the old college try, squeezing them shut and everything, she just saw Seth’s face when he’d looked at the other woman at his work party - looked at her like she had really  _ belonged. _

Belonged in his life in a way that Lara clearly never had, even after three years.

“Miss Hirst?”

Lara’s eyes snapped open. In front of her stood a doctor off the TV. At least, he was so hot, there was no way he could be a  _ real _ Doctor. His old-gold hair was cut short on the sides and boyishly longer in front, curling a little over his forehead. He looked drawn, tired. A pair of black-framed glasses were tucked neatly in the breast pocket of his suit jacket, in front of a pale grey pocket square.

His handsome, angular face and ocean blue eyes made him the perfect, knock-out combo of refined gentleman and might-fuck-you-blind-if-you-ask-nicely badboy.

Well, hey, her day couldn’t possibly get  _ any _ worse. As she looked like she’d been splattered with make-up through a hair dryer and  _ then _ been dragged through a hedge, she might as well meet the hottest guy in the country. Why not. She blinked up at him. 

“That’s me,” she said wearily.

His gaze softened in sympathy. “Please, come with me.”

Lara obediently stood up and followed him through two sets of double doors and into a room of curtained-off beds. The doctor gestured to an empty cubicle. Lara sat on the edge of the wheel-bottomed hospital mattress and the doctor drew the curtains around them.

He perched on the edge of her bed, glancing down at the clipboard he held. His hands were great - wide palm, long, piano’s players fingers. Short nails.

“I’m Dr Hiddleston. Why don’t you tell me what happened?” His deep voice was soothing.

“Oh, you know,” she said dryly. “Challenged a lamp post to a dance off. I won, obviously.”

Dr Hiddleston barked out a surprised laugh, suddenly looking much younger, and then rubbed a hand over his face. “I think that’s the first time I’ve laughed in about twelve hours.”

Lara smiled wanly, feeling her spirits lift despite the situation, despite her broken heart, lying battered and in pieces on the bloody battlefield of her emotions. “Stick around, I might be here all week.”

His kind eyes warmed on her face, and Lara had a sudden, fleeting pang. _He is utterly lovely._

“Would you like to tell me what  _ really _ happened?" he suggested.

Lara relayed the sorry story. Things not being “quite right” with her fiance Seth. Seth saying maybe she shouldn’t come to his work party as she “just didn’t quite fit in.” Lara getting mad and rocking up anyway. The saddest thing had been that she wasn’t even surprised to see Seth using his tongue to examine another girl’s tonsils. And the night ending with the moment when tonsil girl’s fist had met her face, starting a fight. Lara wasn’t proud to have started the fight, but she was proud that she’d finished it by knocking Seth into next week. He was going to sporting a big, diamond-ring imprinted bruise for some time.

She circled her blackened eye with her good hand. “And so, to the present time.”

Dr Dreamy smiled sympathetically. “Well, in my professional opinion, it’s probably best not to punch or get punched by strangers,” he said softly.

“And in your unprofessional one?”

“It certainly seems like your Fiance-”

“ _ Ex-fiance _ now, most definitely-”

“Ex-fiance - is rather an idiot. A complete idiot, really.”

Lara’s cheeks warmed. “And my hand?” she asked, flexing it experimentally.

“Good news - the nurse who examined you earlier is confident that nothing is broken there, and I agree, though do try and be very careful with it for the next week or so. I’ll prescribe a tubular bandage you can wear over it, should keep you from exacerbating the injury. Don’t be afraid to see your GP if the pain changes or gets worse.”

“Thank you,” said she genuinely. If it hadn’t been totally inappropriate she would have added,  _ I wish I could be here to make you laugh more often. _

“You’re very welcome. Take care of that hand, now.” He lowered his voice. “Should a certain someone need another punch, may I suggest - from a purely medical perspective, of course - an area lower in the body and a little less solid?”

Lara smothered a laugh and met his dancing eyes. God.  _ He’s perfect.  _ “You absolutely may.”

He stood up and scribbled something on his clipboard. Lara gazed at his face. She could have cut herself on those cheekbones. He lifted his gaze and she held it for a second, feeling the air between them fill with a million little unsaid things.

“And thank you. For making me laugh,” he added in that gorgeous voice - smooth and cultured, deep, layered with class. A bucket of James Bond with just a splash of naughty. Irresistible.

His gaze lingering on her face, for just a moment longer than was strictly necessary, before he disappeared behind the curtain separating her from the rest of the A&E ward.

Lara sat there, stunned, for a few moments, until Sam appeared and shoved the curtain aside. “Hey, they said I’d find you here. What’s the verdict?”

“I’ll probably live.”

“Oh good.” Sam kissed her forehead. “I’d hate to be the one who has to sort through all your books if you die.”

“Um, thanks?”

Sam gently helped Lara off the bed and took her elbow like she was an elderly aunt who needed concentrated care and attention. “Your chariot awaits.”

“Your twenty year old Citreon?”

“Hey, beggars can’t be choosers.” Sam looked over her shoulder as they made their way to the hospital pharmacy to collect Lara’s bandage. “Hey, did you see that Doctor? Man, he looks like he should be on TV.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our Dr Dreamy & Lara meet again!

_ One Year Later _

Lara slid the leather bound copy of _ Pride and Prejudice _ back where it belonged and breathed in a sigh.

A whole calendar year had passed since she’d punched Seth in the face for being a lying, loser ratbag. One year since she’d (unwisely) punched his loser, lying ratbag girlfriend in the face.

One year to lick her wounds and she was starting to feel marginally more human, more herself. She had packed away or destroyed all the pictures of Seth she’d had in the flat, and sometimes, like yesterday, she’d had a memory of him without either piercing pain or rage-inducing anger. Oh, there still was anger, and hurt, like last week when he’d left her a voicemail out of the blue asking if they could have “coffee.”

She’d texted him to say that London probably had close to a million coffee houses, and she’d make it her personal mission to avoid every single one if there was a chance he’d be in it. He hadn’t replied after that. 

Just as well, because she really liked coffee, and she probably wouldn’t be able to abstain from Pret a Manger forever. Or even for a week. Their bang bang chicken salad was absolutely amazing (and made her chuckle because she had the dirty mind of a thirteen year old).

“Stop that Darcy fantasy and get back to work!”

Lara jerked back to reality and turned where she stood on the ancient stepladder to face her cousin and business partner, Kitty. Every man, and some women’s, wet dream personified, Connie had no idea why Kitty ran this bookstore with her. She could be a model. She could be an actress. She could be, at the very _ least, _ adored by thousands of men at once.

But, like Lara, she had the Hirst genes, and was, like Lara, obsessed with books. Pretty much any kind, but classics and romances were their to-die-for favourites. 

When Lara’s dad, Kitty’s Uncle, had died, he’d left them both his life savings, telling them to live their dream. And so, four years ago and one sale of an empty shopfront in Elephant & Castle later, The Plot Thickens was born. Lara and Kitty both felt it had been an excellent way to honour Lara’s dad’s memory. He’d been a bonafide book lover, right down to the bone.

“I wasn’t having a Darcy fantasy, actually.”

“_ That _ time.”

“That time,” Lara laughed. “I was actually thinking-”

“We’ve talked about that.”

“Oh, piss off.” Lara stuck her tongue out at her cousin. “I was thinking, how I’m much happier without Seth, actually. I can watch whatever I want, for starters.”

“Binge-ing on _ Crazy Ex-Girlfriend?” _

“Every night. It’s the songs I can’t get enough of.”

The cousins smiled at each other. Kitty hefted up a box of books delivered that morning. “Right. I’m going out the back to catalog these bad boys. You okay here for ten minutes?”

Lara tapped her hand on the stack of _ Wuthering Heights _ that had also arrived - the beautiful leather bound editions that had come out in time for Christmas. They were simply divine. “Heathcliff and I will be just fine together.”

Kitty rolled her eyes good-naturedly and disappeared out towards the stockroom

Lara glanced around the shop - no customers. She surreptitiously opened one of the copies of _Wuthering Heights_ and skimmed it until she found a part with Heathcliff in. He was such a typical Byronic hero - mad, bad, and dangerous to know. And even though he was clearly bad news, Lara swooned a tiny bit, every time she met him between the pages.

“I’m glad to see you’ve stopped challenging inanimate objects to dance-offs.”

Lara jerked in surprise, dropping the copy of Wuthering Heights. Dr Hiddleston caught it deftly mid-air, and she met his gaze. He looked different out of his smart, white doctor’s coat, more approachable, younger. His glasses were still tucked in the pocket of his smart herringbone jacket. He wore a forest green scarf with it, and darkwash jeans. He looked as if he’d stepped off the set of a film. She felt a pang near her heart, and another one, a bit lower down. He was _ gorgeous. _

“That’s what you think, Dr H,” she quipped, after giving herself five minutes to adjust to the ridiculously handsome package he came in. “Inanimate objects fear my challenges.”

He smiled, offered her the fallen book. “Maybe you’ll call me Tom,” he said in that voice made for sin. “We’re not in the hospital now, after all.”

Lara ran out of words - an unusual predicament for a bookworm, so she took the book from him and shelved it, then stepped down from the ladder. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know,the usual breaks, sprains and tears, but none of them are mine, so that’s all right. How are you - I hope you haven’t had to put that mean left hook to use recently?”

Lara replayed his words in her head to ascertain whether he was making fun of her...but he didn’t appear to be. She smiled. “Thankfully not.”

“And your ex-partner…”

“Is still very much my ex. Although, I’m told his bruise can, unfortunately, no longer be seen from space,” she snickered. “So….” Lara pondered on what to say next, then settled for work, because he looked so hot and out of place in her bookstore that she had _ absolutely _no idea what to do with herself. “How can I help? Just browsing? Looking for a gift?”

“Gift.” He rubbed the back of his neck briefly, and then smiled, looking shy and self-conscious all of a sudden, and so fucking _ cute _ that a bit of her melted inside. “This is going to sound….odd, but…. Do you have a romance section?”

Lara nodded even as her stomach bottomed out a bit. So Dr Dreamy had a woman in his life. She had no idea why she was so surprised. He was a Doctor - hot - and he had a _ very _ sexy face - hot - and he spoke with a voice that practically commanded you to orgasm - like a proper period drama actor off the telly - _ hot. _ “Of course. This way.” She slid home the copy of Wuthering Heights he’d passed her, climbed down off the ladder and gestured.

Tom followed her through the small shop to the romance section, which Lara herself curated. Her love of “pink and white books” as her American friends called them, had been quite the bone of contention between her and Seth. He told her she had always preferred her “book boyfriends” to him.

Maybe she had. But then, maybe he’d given her multiple reasons to. She flexed her hand. It still ached sometimes, in cold weather. She’d kept the bandage and wore it at night when her muscles hurt. The ache was worth landing that smacker right in Seth’s face.

“Here we are.” She glanced at the shelves with pride. She made sure to get every new Nora Roberts, Susan Mallery, Jill Shalvis, Julia Quinn, and all the other big splashes in the world of romance, including the bestselling relative newcomers like Erin Morgenstern and Julie James. “Can I get you a drink while you browse? Tea, coffee?”

He looked at her in surprise, probably about the drink offer. But Lara and Kitty had done their homework. The bigger bookshops offered an ordering service, so, they did, too. The bigger bookshops offered hot drinks, so, they did too. They could meet their rivals in everything except size, and Lara was _ damn _ proud of what she and her cousin had achieved.

“Tea, tea would be perfect. Thank you.”

“Sure.” She went off to the tiny kitchenette where they kept Kitty’s only child - an eye-wateringly expensive midnight blue Keurig - and glanced up at the security monitor above the microwave. Dr Hiddleston was looking at a few books. She sighed. His cheekbones looked good even on the grainy grey screen. Handsome bastard.

“Hey,” Kitty said as she breezed into the cupboard-sized kitchen.

“Hey.”

“There is an honest to God _ ten _ in the romance section.”

“I know, I put him there. This is his tea.” Lara swirled the triangle-shaped bag around in the shallow, midnight blue mug - the mugs matched the Keurig, of course, Kitty wouldn’t have had it any other way - that made her think of Breton by the sea in the deep of Winter. “He’s a doctor.”

Kitty arched a brow. “Whoa. You certainly work fast.”

“No, I know he’s a doctor because - you know the night I punched Seth in the face?”

“It is my favourite _ ever _ girl power story,” Kitty declared, making herself a cup of tea as the kettle had just boiled. Steam curled into the air between their bodies. “But yes?”

“He was the attending doctor in A&E that night.”

“Oh.” Kitty had been told about Dr Dreamy with the perfect face. “_ Oh. _ I see. Did he _ ask _to go to the romance section?”

“He did.”

“Oh.” Kitty sighed, too, and squeezed Lara’s shoulder companionably. “Better luck next time. Maybe it’s for his mum? Considerate son type? Maybe he asked to go there to psych himself up to declare his undying love for you?”

Lara squeezed the bag, chuckling. “We can only hope.” She sighed as she added milk. “You know, it’s just one of those things. I don’t even know if he felt it, you know, that little _ connection. _ I’d had _ a lot _ to drink. Maybe I imagined it.”

Kitty shrugged and picked up her full cup of tea. “Just saying, if you’re not in it, you can’t win it.”

“What does that even mean?”

Kitty made a face at her and went back to work.

Lara carried the cup out to Dr Hiddleston, who held a few books stacked up in his hands. She admired those piano-playing fingers again for a moment, indulging in a few seconds of fantasy about what he could do her with those hands, before offering him the cup.

“Ah, thanks.” He set the books aside, then took the cup, and their hands brushed briefly. Lara felt the tingle all the way up to her shoulder. Static? Or the sign of something more? Maybe she _ hadn’t _ imagined that little _ frisson _ one year ago?

“So…. do you need any recommendations? Are you after a bodice ripper, or something more modern? A sub genre like romantic suspense? Who’s the lucky recipient?”

He sipped the tea, holding her gaze whilst he spoke, and Lara thought how rare it was, to maintain eye contact through a conversation. How…. gentlemanly. He made her feel like she was the only person in the room. Which, technically, she was. But it was lovely to _ feel _ like the centre of someone’s attention.

“A good friend of mine, you could say they’re a connoisseur of romance novels,” he added.

Lara’s hopes sunk. _ Definitely _ a girlfriend. Why was it whenever men mentioned “a good friend,” it always turned out to be a significant other? Why couldn’t they just _ say _ they were coupled up? 

It was annoying.

“Well,” she replied cheerfully, ignoring the little pang in her heart at finding out he was not available, and instead enjoying the robin’s egg blue of his eyes, “Julia Quinn has been a favourite of mine for _ years. _ Rachel Gibson is laugh out loud…. And Tessa Dare always makes me feel like the incurable romantic I am inside. If you want sass, though, you can’t beat Julie James. And if you like regency but you want something a little…. Off piste, then there’s that Jane Austen choose your own adventure book. I always get run off the cliff by gypsies, sadly.”

“That’s quite a list,” he marvelled, smiling. “Sorry about the gypsies.”

Lara laughed. “It’s okay. One day I’ll choose the option where I marry Darcy.”

“Thank you for the advice.”

“Well, you don’t get to be a completely overqualified book nerd like me without putting the long hours of reading in,” she deadpanned. “I’ll, ah, leave you to browse. If you need anything, swing by the counter.”

Again he held her gaze. His eyes really were startlingly blue. “Thank you. Really.”

Another customer interrupted whatever thought had been forming in her head of what to say next, and she made a beeline for them.

Tom smelled deliciously of woodsmoke and citrus, and his particular aftershave kept cutting into her awareness as she moved around the shop. She watched him drinking his tea, and thought,_ when he’s done with the cup _ , _ if I place my mouth where his is now, it’d be like we’d kissed. _

Then she mentally smacked herself for behaving like a lovesick teenager. Was she _twelve_?

Maybe she was in her head.

A few minutes later, she was up a ladder on the other side of the shop, organising the sci-fi section, where a few books had been returned to incorrect shelves. Kitty manned the till and as Lara watched, Dr Dreamy wandered over, two books and the empty cup in his hand.

“Thank you so much for the tea,” he was saying. 

God, he even _ spoke _ as politely as a romance novel hero.

Kitty surreptitiously glanced back at Lara , a question on her face. They’d known each other _ forever _ and so Lara knew what her cousin was asking. She gave Kitty a minute shake of her head. It would be _ so _ weird if she ran over to ring up his books now. After all, what connection did they really have? _ Well, little future grandchildren, it was love at first sight when I was wheeled into A&E with extreme Panda face and a sprained hand from my first grown-up fight. I even cracked an awful joke. To his face. And I had cocktail breath from too many cosmopolitans. Really, how could he have resisted me? _

Kitty turned back and took Dr Hiddleston's money and bagged his books. Lara couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but Kitty started to tuck the receipt in his bag and he thanked her.

Then he looked up, caught her eye, and tossed off a cute little half-salute. It was so boyishly fun that she laughed, not minding that she’d been caught staring, and grinned at him.

And then he was gone, striding off on long legs into the darkening afternoon, the little LED lights in the bookshop window glinting off the copper in his hair.

Lara sighed once, very deeply, and firmly relegated him to the “bedtime fantasy” area of her brain.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A coffee date, but without the coffee!
> 
> (why does no one ever say - shall we meet for tea?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've no idea if Tom's dad is a doctor or not, and I'm not going to try and find out. This is an AU after all :)

_ One week later _

“I mean,” Sam said as they watched  _ Don’t Tell the Bride _ on catch-up, snuggled together on Lara’s second hand grey sofa, “You could just do yourself a minor injury. Hashtag, just saying.”

Lara threw a handful of popcorn at her. “First of all, never say the word “hashtag” out loud again as long as you live. Second of all, I’d just go to my GP…. wouldn’t I.”

Unperturbed, Sam ate the popcorn that had landed in her lap. “I mean, major-minor. Like, not breaking your leg but maybe spraining it badly? That was a waste of popcorn, by the way.”

Lara sighed and shifted on the sofa. It was evening. The autumn nights had started closing in, in a big way. Five p.m was now dark, and since the holidays were officially over, the crush on the tube had been manic on her way home most nights this week.

“I await your list of how I can be so accurately sure of spraining my leg so bad it’s  _ almost but not quite _ broken. I had no idea you were a minor-major injuries expert,” Lara deadpanned.

Sam snorted. “Come  _ on. _ I’m just trying to get you some hot Doctor action. You said he was a  _ definite _ ten. You  _ said  _ he was perfection in a white lab coat.”

“He was,” Lara said wistfully. “Both of those things. He just seemed…. So sweet, you know? But also like he might fuck you into next week if you let him.”

“Damn,” Sam said, mulling this over. “And wouldn’t that be worth a sprained ankle?”

They both drifted off into a mutual silence as, on the TV, a bride stranded in Las Vegas on a honeymoon gone wrong threatened to behead her future husband if he didn’t get her on a plane home that minute.

“Dude, I am never getting married,” Sam told the TV.

“Really?”

“Yes, and if I _ever_ do, it’s going to be a tiny affair with only a handful of people, not a gross budget, in a little barn somewhere with loads of fairy lights.”

“Sounds beautiful.”

“It will be, when I find someone I actually want to marry. Based on my track record, seems unlikely.”

They silently contemplated this together as on the TV, the bride arrived home in the UK to find that her groom had forgotten to get a dress for her.

“You don’t have to date him,” Sam added. “You could just have, you know…. some festive fun. Dress his dick up in a Christmas stocking.”

Lara bobbled her bowl of popcorn. “Samantha Taylor. You did  _ not  _ just say that.”

“Of course I did. Imagine it. Christmas with Dr Hiddleston. Okay, maybe the stocking is a garment too far and also, probably not sanitary. Can you get condoms patterned like Christmas hats?”

“You should be locked up,” Lara muttered, but she could feel her face turning red.  _ Maybe _ she’d thought about it. Maybe. Just once, thought about what his arms might feel like around her. How he might taste on a dark winter evening, how he might wrap his scarf around her to keep her warm. How his blue eyes might darken as they undressed each other.

_ Okay, I’ve thought about it a lot this week. _

But they were just two strangers really, who’d happened to meet after he’d examined her hand in A&E. What were they to each other? A big fat nothing.

“Come on, though. It sounds like a Mills and Boon romp, don’t you think? _ The Doctor and the Book-keeper _ .”

Lara sighed internally. Why hadn’t she said something? Why had she assumed that he had a girlfriend? Why had she  _ assumed  _ that he was either gay or coupled-up if he was buying romance novels? 

Why had she assumed anything? She had assumed Seth had been faithful to her throughout their relationship, and look what a lie that had turned out to be. What was that really annoying saying? 

_ Assuming makes an ass of you and me.  _ Her mum’s frequent words circled in her head and she frowned at herself.

“Well…” she started, seriously thinking about it now, and then her bottom started vibrating.

She pulled her phone from her pocket. The screen was alight with a UK mobile number she didn’t recognise. Scams usually had foreign dial codes, so she picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, ah, Lara.”

She would remember that gorgeous voice anywhere. Her insides went to liquid. “Dr Hiddleston.”

“It’s really OK to call me Tom. Dr Hiddleston is my father.”

Her entire being filled with the cosiest warmth at his low, engaging voice. “Err… how did you get my number?”

He chuckled, and the low, intimate sound made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end with delicious anticipation. “So, ah, your colleague wrote on the back of my receipt,  _ Lara would love you to call her _ , so…. I felt it would be the proper thing to do.”

Lara’s face flamed and she dropped her bowl of popcorn on the floor. Beside her, Sam pressed her face to Lara’s cheek, completely unfazed at listening in so blatantly. 

“She did, did she?” she asked at length, when she felt she’d gotten all her cringing out of the way.  _ God. I just want to sofa to open up and swallow me up. Now, preferably. _

“I’m very glad I called,” he laughed, but it was a nice laugh - not as if he was laughing  _ at _ her. 

“I am, too.”

“Perhaps…” he paused, and Lara worried for a second that he’d change his mind, or hang up. “Coffee?”

“ _ Definitely _ coffee.”

“Good,” he said warmly, and she shivered with anticipation at seeing him again. “I look forward to seeing you in an environment that isn’t work for either of us.”

  
  


*****

Lara sat in a comfy bucket chair by the window of a Pret a Manger in Vauxhall, a cup of half-empty, still-warm Miso soup between her palms. Outside, leaves on the trees were a warm, burnished gold. She loved the herald of the seasons played out through nature.

She had arrived early after a panicked sort through every outfit she owned. 

Her bedroom looked as if Monsoon (sale section only), Dorothy Perkins, and Cath Kidston ( _ definitely _ sale section only) had spawned crumpled fabric babies all over her duvet. She  _ wasn’t  _ looking forward to the post-date cleaning session.

If indeed it was a date, and the good doctor didn’t just feel sorry for her. She didn’t want to be  _ anyone’s _ sympathy date, and intended to say so.

She resisted the urge to check her phone for the fiftieth time. She had it on vibrate, if he wanted to call, he’d call. She didn’t want to be that person on their phone, alone, in a coffee shop, looking like she’d been stood up, but not wanting to  _ appear _ obviously stood up.

Her hand strayed to the copy of  _ The Night Circus _ on the table next to her. Well-thumbed, it was nevertheless her go-to comfort read, her little corner of magic in the modern world.

She started to turn the pages, then her mind wandered.

What if he’d been held up at the hospital? She wouldn’t mind, at all. Maybe he  _ had _ changed his mind. What if-

“Lara.”

She jerked from her thoughts to see him standing by her chair. “Dr- I mean, Tom.”

He smiled self-consciously. “Dr Tom’s OK, although it always reminds me of my junior Doctor years in Paeds. Sorry I’m late - last minute admission to the Emergency Unit as I was leaving.”

“Of course.”

“And  _ definitely _ call me Tom.”

“Tom.” The name suited him, friendly, a classic.

“So.” He tucked his hands in his pockets. He looked casual today, leather jacket over a dark blue sweater that brought out the startling azure of his eyes. His jaw was just a little prickly, like he’d missed a day’s shave. She liked the look on him; the stubble made him look a little bit dangerous, a bit of a rogue. “What can I get you to drink?”

Lara started to refuse out of politeness, then decided not to.  _ Just let him buy you a coffee. It’s hardly marriage. _

“Something festive, thank you. Surprise me.”

Off he went to the counter, walking confidently on those long legs. He looked as if he’d walked off a magazine, and Lara didn’t fail to notice several heads turning in his direction as he passed.  _ And he’s here with me, _ she thought, dizzily.

For a few moments she watched people pass by in the street, some on phones, some carrying bags full of Christmas presents. London never stopped, and whilst she loved living here, the buzz and the plentiful attractions, she was glad to have her quiet bookshop to retreat to when it all got too much.

“One fudge hot chocolate for the lady-” he set it down before her.

“Perfect.” It was the word she’d have used to describe him in that moment, as his hair flopped slightly over his forehead. His blue eyes blazed out of a face more gorgeous than if she’d sculpted it to her own specifications.

He settled into the chair opposite her.

“I just want to say-” she started, as he said:

“Lara, the thing is-”

He picked up the shallow, wide brimmed coffee cup he had selected for himself - it smelled like Earl Grey tea, that hint of bergamot lingering in the air between them - and gestured towards her. “You first.”

“I didn’t ask Kitty to write my number on your receipt,” she rushed out.

He smiled into the cup. “I guessed as much from your long, horrified silence on the phone.”

Lara swallowed back a mortified laugh. “That was obvious?”

“I thought it was sweet.”

“So, are you? Here on a sympathy call?”

His beautiful eyes warmed. “Doctors don’t do sympathy calls anymore, generally. But to answer your question, no, I’m not on a sympathy call. If I wanted to let you down gently, Lara, I’d have done it before I’d even sat down. I’d never lead you on.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it. Not being led on, I mean. I…. The guy I punched the night we met. He really did a number on me. So now, I would rather know where I stand right from the word go.”

“Pre-New Year’s New Year’s resolution?” he asked gently.

“Something like that. Not that,” she added, suddenly panicked, “Not that I’m here thinking we’re going to have a relationship…” She stared into her fudge hot chocolate. “Christ. I’m rubbish at this.”

“Relax.” Tom brushed his hand over hers. His fingers were gentle and warm, and the contact fizzed up her arm. “We’re just having coffee - well actually, we’re having tea and hot chocolate, to be accurate.”

She laughed, and felt some of the tension leak out of her shoulders. “Okay. Just hot drinks. What should we talk about?”

Tom gestured with his hand to indicate that she could choose a subject.

Lara worried her lip between her teeth for a moment. “You know…. The trouble is, I run a bookshop with my cousin, who is one of my best friends. And after work I hang out with my  _ other _ best friend, so all I know how to do is have very inappropriate conversations, and also I talk about books, a lot.”

He sipped his tea. “So, door number one,  _ very _ inappropriate conversation, door number two, books. Is it terrible if I pick books?”

She laughed again. He had a way of making her feel very at ease. “No. What do you love to read?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not always easy, trying to strike up a romance with a busy doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't read "This is going to Hurt" by Adam Kay, PLEASE READ IT. It will (especially if you live in the UK) give you a profound sense of awe about our frontline hospital staff.

An hour and another cup for each of them later, Lara noticed that Tom was starting to falter. He looked tired, faint lines bracketing his irresistible mouth.

They’d talked constantly, about Shakespeare (Tom’s favourite play was  _ Hamlet, _ Lara preferred  _ Othello _ , although she couldn’t be sure that wasn’t due to developing a crush on Kenneth Branagh after watching the video in GSCE class), food, and work.   


“Are you OK?”

He rubbed his eyes with one hand, and then blinked. “Of course. I usually feel like this after a shift. A&E isn’t known for its plentiful breaks and sofas,” he deadpanned.

“We can wrap this up whenever,” Lara insisted, even know she didn’t even really know what  _ this _ counted as.

“It’s a doctor’s life,” Tom said wryly. “Perma-tired. Sorry.”

Lara frowned. “Do  _ not _ be sorry. When my Dad died… it’s only thanks to the doctors who treated him that I got extra days with him. I think about that all the time.” She brushed her hand over his. “And for what it’s worth, I think I’d rather have perma-tired Tom than non-tired anyone else.”

He met her gaze and smiled, and her heart performed a quick one-two in her chest at the way his face lit up when his lips curved.

Tom stood up in his seat. “Lara… I’d like to see you again.”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes, please.”

He rounded the table and picked up her coat, holding it out so she could slip her arms in. It was an old-fashioned, gentlemanly gesture, something she’d seen her dad do for her mum, and it caused a warm glow in her stomach. She adjusted her coat and looked up at him. His ocean blue eyes were dark as he bent his head to gently kiss her cheek. His skin was warm and he smelled of citrus and bergamot. Without thinking about it, Lara lifted a hand to his cheek and stroked her thumb over the stubble gracing his jaw.

“I wish I wasn’t quite so tired,” Tom murmured against her cheek.

Her heart squeezed. “There’ll be other times. Can’t be a superhero if you’re flagging.” She dropped her hand from his face and smoothed her palm down his leather jacket. “See you again?”

“The rota’s being released tomorrow,” he promised. “May I call you then?”

She grinned. “I’ll be quite heartbroken if you don’t.”

*****

TOM: The hospital break room at two a.m is the least interesting place. And by  _ break room, _ I mean a small cot wedged between shelves of medical supplies. The supplies may or may not fall on my head whilst I try and rest later.

LARA: Least interesting. And yet, you’re messaging me about it.

TOM: I was thinking about you.

LARA: Wow. In a closet of medical supplies? Doesn’t sound like there’s a lot else to think about.

LARA: I’m kidding.

TOM: Why are  _ you  _ awake?

LARA: Stayed up reading - thriller. Too awake to sleep now.

TOM: Which book?

LARA: It’s in the Jack Reacher series. Don’t judge me, I needed a palate cleanser.

TOM: **judging you**

TOM: I’m being paged. Speak later. Try to get some sleep, Lovely Lara.

  
  
  
  


*****

  
  


“...And we haven’t seen each once since.” Lara pushed a copy of To  _ All the Boys I’ve Loved Before _ into place on the shelf and tried not to sulk. “It’s been six days and all I have is Whatsapp messages. The new rota is a killer, apparently. And it's Emergency Medicine, so it's also impossible to predict.”

Kitty set two steaming cups of tea on the counter. They’d just closed the shop for the day and were doing the daily tidy before going home.

Lara was in no rush - the rain whipped at the windows, hail battering the glass in the familiar staccato rhythm of Autumn.

“He  _ is _ a doctor,” Kitty pointed out.

Lara sighed and started to tidy the kids’ play area next to the Children’s Classics section. The little table held washable crayons, colouring sheets and various blocks and dolls. “I hate it when you’re all reasonable and stuff. I know he is. And I know he’s been messaging me whenever he can steal five minutes. And it means a lot. It just isn’t the same as being in the same room.”

Kitty sipped her tea.

“You’re making your thoughtful face,” Lara commented.

“You could go to him, you know?”

Lara stopped in the middle of lining up the dolls on the play table. “What, turn up outside A&E with a bottle of wine and say: I wanted to see you. Who am I, Richard Gere?”

“You’d have to climb a fire escape to earn that accolade,” Kitty pointed out.

Lara finished tidying and crossed the shop floor to pick up her tea. She wrapped her palms around the dark blue mug, tapping her finger against the handle thoughtfully. “Why don’t I.”

“Climb a fire escape? I wouldn’t recommend it.”

Lara rolled her eyes. “It’s 2019, after all. Why am I waiting for him to woo me? I can  _ totally _ do the wooing.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKYOU for all the comments!

LARA: What time do you get off today?

TOM: **eyebrow raising**

LARA: Are you twelve?

TOM: Inside. Don’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin my mystique.

TOM: Allegedly, at five. Usually it’s an hour later. Should I ask why?

LARA: I’m just gonna put it out there. I want to see you, and I know your job is demanding. So, I’m coming to you.

******

  
  


If it was lovelorn and awkward and a bit 90s chick flick to be standing outside Guys and St Thomas’ Hospital with a bouquet of flowers, then, she guessed, Lara was lovelorn and awkward and a bit 90s.

Her hair was stuck in the 90s, anyway, so.

The afternoon was crisp and clear. Lara tucked her red cardigan around her. Kitty had insisted she wear something sexy, but Lara wasn’t going there - not on their second date, if this could even be called such.

At a quarter to six, the automatic doors opened and he appeared. He looked tired, shoulders slumped with fatigue, and Lara hesitated.

Should she be here? Maybe he just wanted to go home and crash. Alone.

Then, Tom spotted her, and a grin spread slowly across his face. 

Seeing his blue eyes light up made the trip here, and the awkwardness, worth a thousandfold.

He stopped in front of her, and a wayward lock of his honey-blond hair flopped loose as he gazed down at her. “I can safely say this is the nicest way I’ve ended a shift in a very long time.”

Lara ignored the little tug of irrational jealously that his words ignited in her belly - that he might have had someone else doing this for him, before her.

Instead she leaned up and kissed his cheek, breathing him in. He smelled of the bitter tang of coffee with just a hint of citrus.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He nodded to the flowers. “Are those… for me?”

Lara proferred them, feeling sheepish. “I really don’t know why I brought them. It just seemed weird to turn up empty handed. My parents browbeat me with the knowledge that you don’t go to see someone without a gift.”

“Then I’m grateful to your parents.” He offered his arm and she slid hers through, her fingers brushing the grey herringbone of his smart coat. He cut such a fine figure that her heart lurched in her chest. “Daisies are my favourite.”

Lara snorted. “They are not.”

He laughed and dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “Where shall we go?”

“That’s up to you. You’re the one who’s spent twelve hours treating sick people. Want to talk about it?”

He steered them towards the exit of the car park. “Unfortunately, I’ve spent most of those twelve hours learning about the objects that people insert into themselves.”

Lara’s steps faltered as they paused by traffic lights. “Really?”

“I wish I was lying.”

She laughed out loud. “Like…”

“Well. The usual you’d expect - cucumbers, instruments made specifically for pleasure such as…”

“Dildos?”

He coughed. “I wasn’t going to say it.”

Lara glanced at his embarrassed face, utterly charmed by him. “Okay, and the  _ less _ usual?”

“Toy cars and other everyday objects.”

“Toy  _ cars? _ Surely they aren’t…”

Tom shrugged. “Each to their own. No harm was done in any of the cases, at any rate.”

“Why were there so many… today?” Lara asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

“Hen party gone wrong. Apparently.” He steered them across the road. “Are you hungry?”

“Certainly not for cucumber.”

He barked out a laugh. “I am  _ very _ glad you came, Lara. I’m sorry I’ve only been available via Whatsapp over the last week.”

She squeezed his arm, loving his warmth. “I’m sorry, too. I worried about coming here, if it was…. Too forward.”

They paused at lights again, and Tom used his free hand to gently tilt up Lara’s chin. His blue gaze searched hers, warm, open. “You may be as forward as you like.”

Anxiety and anticipation rushed through her as he lowered his head, and then the green man flashed and they were crossing the road, buoyed along by the rush hour crush of London, who had no time for kerbside romance.

Lara gasped as the turned a corner. “I’ve never been here! All the years I’ve lived here.”

They approached  _ The Golden Hind  _ replica. It rose majestically from its position by the docks, sails removed to show the two birds nests on the masts. The figurehead was a resplendently golden deer’s head, the edges of the ship’s woodwork painted in striking red and gold.

“Thought you might like it. Also…. There’s a great pizza place opposite. Split one?”

Lara gazed at the replica of the ship for a moment more. “Love to.”

And so they sat together on the dock beside the replica of the famous ship, sharing a four seasons pizza. The cheese was thick and sweet on Lara’s tongue as she ate, shoulder to shoulder to Tom.

Around them, London buzzed in the after work rush, people grabbing happy hour cocktails and talking on phones and hurrying home to make dinner.

After they washed down their pizza with beers from the dockside pub, after the sun had set and the stars winked in the blanket of dark Autumnal sky, Tom cupped Lara’s face in his large, warm hands, and kissed her. She wished for the moment never to end, parting her lips so he could deepen the kiss. He took the invitation, and she slid her arms up around his neck, her fingers toying with the ends of his hair.

“All you need is love, love, love….”

Lara broke the kiss.

Behind them on two of the pub’s trestle tables, some drunk university age boys were singing the Beatles hit.

Tom rolled his eyes. “I'd have liked to have kissed you without an audience.”

Lara slid her hand down his arm and linked her fingers with him. “Next time.”

*****

LARA: All that talk of cucumbers has me thinking about YOUR cucumber, if you know what I mean.

TOM:.... Have you been drinking?

LARA: Or do I mean... something else cucumber shaped? **winky emoji**

TOM: ......

LARA: I made the mistake of going to the bathroom while my friend Sam's over. I'll get back to you after I kill her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lara and Kitty discuss the shop, and Tom has some news.

“Just think about it,” Kitty urged. “We could do brilliant things with a cash injection.”

Lara chewed her lip as she glanced around the shop. “I will. I just hate the thought of someone we don’t know, or hardly know, living upstairs.”

“There’s a separate entrance,” Kitty pointed out.

Lara sipped her tea as she contemplated this. In truth, they could use the money. Regular rent on the attic flat above the shop would allow them to set up a proper website with an online ordering system, generate more business. And the website could look sleek and professional instead of just a placeholder with their address and contact info on. “Maybe I’ll draft an advert.”

Kitty punched the air. “You know,” she said, serious again, “Your Dad would be proud.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

_And he’d have liked Tom,_ Lara thought wistfully. Their kiss by _The Golden Hind_ last night was burned into her brain. His lips had been warm and firm, the kiss tender. It had lit her up from the inside out. She needed to see him again, had a feeling she’d never get enough of his engaging smile, those ocean blue eyes, and his voice made for sin. Thank goodness he had known it wasn’t her when Sam had grabbed her phone during an episode of _The Good Place._ Lara rolled her eyes. Best friends were more trouble than they were worth, some days.

She was jerked from her thoughts when the shop bell rang, and she moved to help a young boy and his grandmother find kids’ books about the changing seasons. Outside, October was in full swing, the London pavements turned red and gold by falling leaves. The shops had their Christmas windows out and Lara already looked forward to her first mince pie of the year. Maybe she’d be sharing it with Tom. Just maybe.

****

TOM: We need to talk.

LARA: Oh my God, you’re pregnant! I’ve already started knitting a blanket.

TOM: You are wonderful.

TOM: Could I come by the shop for lunch? Shift doesn’t start until 3.

LARA: See you later x

TOM: x

****

Despite her casual reply to Tom’s text, Lara’s pulse had jumped at his message. They’d only been on two dates. What was there to talk about? Was it bad news? His _you are wonderful_ message would suggest otherwise, but Lara had learned that no good ever came from a _we need to talk_ message. Ever.

She kept herself busy during the morning, not difficult as it was a Saturday and they had a steady stream of customers.

“You okay?”

Lara jumped at Kitty’s voice, almost burning herself with the coffee she’d been making for an elderly customer browsing their collection of Hemingway novels.

“Jesus.”

“You can call me Kitty. I don’t want everyone knowing.” She looped her arms around Lara’s neck. “It’ll be okay, you know. How bad can it be? You’ve only known each other five minutes.”

Lara mopped up the drops of coffee that she’d spilled in her surprise. “I know. But I already _really_ like him. I just can’t help the feeling of dread.”

Kitty kissed her cheek and headed back into the shop. “He’ll be here in a half hour. Try and eat something to settle your stomach. Okay?”

The thirty minutes felt like they took two hours to crawl by. When the clock struck twelve-thirty, Lara closed herself in the bathroom in the staff area of the shop and took a few deep breaths. She gazed at herself in the mirror, straightening the embroidered orange headband that looked vibrant and autumnal against her dark curls.

_You managed without him before. You can manage without him again. Not like he’s been in your life for very long at all._

But sometimes people didn’t need to be in your life for long, to work their way into your heart.

Her phone buzzed and she dug it from the pocket of her denim shirt dress, sliding her thumb over the screen.

KITTY: Doctor in the house.

Lara splashed water on the face, towelled off, and then went to face the music.

He waited in the Classics section, and she found him flicking through a gorgeous new leather-bound copy of _To Kill a Mockingbird._

“Hey.”

He looked up, closed the book. His hair was damp, curling where the rain had touched the golden strands. “Lara.”

There was something in his eyes. Something bad. Lara chewed her bottom lip, then gave into her urge and leaned up to kiss him. He bent his head and their mouths met. Lara sighed when his lips parted under hers. She breathed him in, the familiar tickle of desire stirring in her stomach at his nearness.

“Come on.” She held out her hand. Tom slid the book back into its home on the shelf and let her lead him to the staff room.

The space was small, but homey and quirky. A plaque that declared SORRY – YESTERDAY WAS THE DEADLINE FOR ALL COMPLAINTS hung on the wall by the small, frosted window.

A counter held a fridge beneath and on top, a microwave, a sink and a stack of clean plates and bowls. Opposite, a robin’s egg blue table boasted a jar of daisies.

Tom got there first and pulled out a chair for Lara.

When he removed his coat and sat, she took a deep breath. “Just tell me you never want to see me again, already.”

His face fell. “That’s what you think?”

“What was I supposed to think? Nobody likes a text that says “we have to talk.” It always ends badly.”

Tom slid his hand across the table, palm up. Lara placed her hand in his larger one, watching his face expectantly.

“Lara,” he began. “You have no idea how much I hate what I’m about to say-”

“Who were they for?” she interrupted.

“Sorry, what?”

“When we first met. The romance novels. Who were they for?”

Tom’s brows drew together for a second and then he smiled. “My Aunt. She’s in a care home here in London. I read to her, whenever I visit.”

“Oh.” Lara’s shoulders relaxed. Deep down, she’d feared they were for a girlfriend. “Go on.”

He squeezed her fingers. “In order to learn, junior doctors – although five years in, I’m still classed as junior, which is mind-boggling – are rotated from one hospital to another. I thought my posting here was permanent or that I’d at least have the chance to _apply_ to be permanent.”

His words hung in the air for a long moment. Lara closed her eyes for a moment. “Where?”

“Edinburgh.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A relationship chat.

“So what happens now?” Lara asked into the stony silence in the break room.

Tom let his other hand join hers on the table. He clasped her palm between both of his. “That’s up to you. We barely know each other. I don’t expect.... I don’t expect. A doctor’s life isn’t an easy one. I mean, _most_ marriages where a medical professional is involved fail within-”

“Whoa,” Lara laughed. “I expected a better proposal. You don't even have a ring."

He chuckled, and the expression made him look younger, boyish. Her heart squeezed painfully.

“I just want to put it all out there.”

She held his gaze for a second. “I think I want tea. Have you eaten?”

“Not as yet, no.”

She stood up, breaking contact, and busied herself at the kettle, making two cups of Earl Grey. The kettle whistled noisily as she raided the contents of the fridge and built two BLT sandwiches on soft, brown bread. She set the plate and the cup in front of him. “Eat up.”

He smiled, sat up straighter and picked up the sandwich. “Thanks, Mum.”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you even get time to eat at work?”

“Sometimes,” he said after chewing and swallowing a bite. “When I do, it's usually cardboard from the vending machines in the corridor. This is _lovely._”

Lara shrugged as she tucked into her own sandwich. She’d had a sudden urge to _take care_ of him when he’d said he was leaving. The bombshell was as unexpected as it was sad. It felt like their time had been cut short; a flower bud ripped from the soil before the petals had truly unfurled towards the sun.

“Lara, you deserve more than this. More than snatched moments and a long distance relationship with a man you hardly know.”

Sitting back, Lara put her sandwich down. “First of all, I _do_ know you. I know enough. I know you’re kind. I know you’re dedicated to your job, a job that helps people. I know you love cassic novels and Shakespeare and pizza and beer. I know our first kiss practically blew my head off. And maybe most importantly, you laugh at my jokes.”

Tom smiled at her, but his beautiful azure eyes remained serious as he sipped his Earl Grey, the warming scent of citrus and bergamot floating in the space between their bodies. “Is that enough?”

“Give it a chance to be enough. Please?”

He smiled again, and this time it reached his eyes. “You had me at “eat up.” ”

They finished their short lunch in companionable silence. Lara rinsed out the tea cups. As she stood at the sink, she heard Tom’s chair creak. He slipped his arms around her from behind, his lips on her hair. She leaned back into him, breathing him in.

“I _really_ don’t want you to go to Scotland,” she said in a small voice.

“I wish I didn’t have to. Truly.”

She turned her head and offered her lips for a kiss. He obliged, and Lara shivered with delight when their tongues met and tangled. He moaned softly into her mouth, and she tried to swallow the sound, to keep the low noise of pleasure inside forever, to remember when he was miles away.

“Tom?”

“Hmmm.”

“Are you vibrating, or are you just pleased to see me?”

He stepped back and dug into his pocket, pulling out a sleek grey pager. “Oh, bugger. Sorry. A colleague has gone home sick and I’m needed early.” He shoved the pager back in his pocket. “Look, Lara-“

“Less talking. More kissing. If we’re going to have less time, let’s use it well, shall we?”

His eyes widened for a second as she turned from the sink and grabbed his shirt, her hands warm and wet from the washing up water. Fisting her fingers in the smart fabric of the Oxford, she yanked him close and kissed him thoroughly, with a desperation borne of the knowledge that he would soon be miles away, unavailable for touching, kissing, or holding.

Tom kissed her back, intense, fiery.

They were both breathing harder when they separated. Lara reached up, and with a calm she wasn’t feeling, smoothed the lapels of his shirt. “Well. Maybe see you… tomorrow? The shop’s shut Sunday.”

He nodded, reaching out to tuck a wayward dark curl back behind her ear. “I’ll be working until the wee hours, but I’ll message you when I wake up.” With a sigh, he dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I hope you don’t change your mind, Lovely Lara.”

_I won’t,_ she thought, but didn’t voice it. She didn’t want to make promises that might prove hard to keep this early in the game.

****

TOM: I can’t stop smiling.

LARA: More cucumber related incidents?

TOM: You've got a dirty mind.

LARA: If you're lucky, you might find how how dirty, one day.

TOM: I'm already lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr friends. How do I put pictures and/or GIFs in my chapters? I'm nearly 35 and too old for technology.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just lots of tooth-rotting fluff.

TOM: Good morning.

LARA: Morning. How was your shift?

TOM: Not bad. One head injury, a few people who really only needed to see their GP, a few lacerations due to inebriation. 

TOM: How do you feel about lunch? Greenwich?

LARA: I feel  _ great _ about lunch.

*****

The day was crisp, cold and clear. The sort of Autumn day that only took place in stock photos or in films.

Lara waited outside the pretty little teahouse, her favourite Joules scarf keeping her neck warm.

A flight of swallows arrowed overhead, breaking up the cloudless blue sky. She kept an eye out for a tall figure in a herringbone coat as as a mother walked past, pushing a buggy, the baby inside swaddled to within an inch of its life, tiny feet clad in adorable Eskimo style boots. 

“Penny for them?”

Lara started at the sound of Tom’s voice. She turned to gaze up at him, his hair windswept. He wore a woolly grey scarf and his jaw was prickly from skipping a shave this morning. She liked it, the imperfection making him somehow even  _ more _ perfect. Dashing, the perfect gentleman.

She could imagine him cutting a swathe through the women of London.

But he was here, and he was hers. A rush of giddy pleasure spiralled through her.

“I was thinking I’m lucky.”

“Yeah?”

She leaned into him, sliding her arms around his waist. He responded in kind, and she tucked her cheek into the hollow of his shoulder. “Lucky that you’re here with me.”

He squeezed her against him and she took a moment to breathe him in. “Thank you,” he whispered into her hair.

“For what?”

“For giving us a real chance.”

Lara blinked, realising her eyes were wet. Uncomfortable with crying in public, she swiped at her face, then smiled brightly. “Shall we?”

The Pavillion Cafe sat in a pretty copse of trees, some already naked and ready for the blast of Winter, others stalwart evergreens which cossetted the building from the worst of the frigid wind. A dovecote sat atop the hexagonal building, a reminder of its heritage. Troughs filled with cheery purple heather flanked the building, attractive, a signpost for the coming cold days and long nights.

Tom held the door for Lara when they reached the building. The soles of her boots clicked on the beautiful piebald mosaic floor, and her stomach grumbled as the scent of freshly baked pastries, bread, and coffee assaulted her senses.

Holding hands, they glanced up at the sleek chocolate-brown menu boards. Behind the counter, a server built a multi-layered bacon and avocado sandwich and secured it with a wooden skewer. 

“What’s your poison?”

“Earl Grey. Large, if you don’t mind.”

“Converted you to tea, have I?” he laughed.

Lara stuck her tongue out at him. “I loved it before you.”

As he went to the counter, she swallowed at her words.  _ I loved tea before I loved you? _ Was that what she’d meant? They hardly knew each other. But she felt, unequivocally, that the big four letter word was where she was headed.

You couldn’t fall in love in a few days.

Could you? Surely that only happened in fiction.

Tom interrupted her anxious thoughts by appearing beside her with two cups. He offered one to her. “Tea, Earl Grey, hot.”

If he thought she’d missed the Star Trek reference then he was wrong. “Thank you, Picard.” She took the cup.

That surprised a laugh out of him.

“Didn’t think I’d get it?”

“No. But I’m delighted that you did.”

Their gazes held for a moment. His blue eyes warmed with humour, and Lara had to look away before she gave in to the urge to kiss the life out of him right there in front of the barista and the other customers.

Instead she followed him to the door and took a sip of her tea. The flavour of bergamot danced on her tongue. The drink was brewed to perfection.

Hand in hand, they walked through the hedged sphere together, over the grass. Dew clung to the delicate green blades. Lara was painfully,  _ acutely _ aware of him on every level. And most aware that what she really wanted was to kiss him until they were both dizzy and breathless from it. 

“Where shall we go?” she asked, to take her mind off how much she wanted to crawl inside him and drink him in, and never leave. “A walk will work up our appetite for lunch.”

“One Tree Hill?” Tom suggested. “It’s a rather stunning viewpoint, especially on a day as clear as this.”

They had plenty of company as they walked. Joggers were out in force, as were dog walkers, being tugged along by everything from tiny, energetic pugs to lumbering German shepherds. On the green, a father kicked around a bright yellow ball with two tiny boys, their breath forming little white clouds in the air.

They took the path that passed the beautiful building of the Observatory and the Planetarium next door. Ahead, the General James Wolfe statue loomed.

“I love London,” Lara said without thinking.

“Have you always lived here?”

“Grew up near Croydon.” She tipped her take-away cup up a little to drink, feeling a bit cross that she was more than halfway through the warming beverage. It was delicious, warm in her stomach. “I moved in with Kitty when I was twenty - wanted to strike out on my own, you know. London takes a bit of getting used to - and of course it takes a big bite out of any money I earn - but it’s so vibrant. There’s so much to see.”

“I love it, too.”

They climbed the hill together, laughing as the smooth soles of Lara’s boots slid on the dewy grass. Tom helped her up, tea sloshing in their cups as they slipped. Finally they reached the top, standing with a cluster of others admiring the view of the city below, the sleek glass of metal of buildings piercing the perfect blue skyline.

Tom slid his arm around Lara and she leaned into him willingly, snuggling into his shoulder.

They said nothing for a long few moments, watching birds soar into the sky, listening to the chatter of the tourists around them, decked out with cameras and backpacks.

“How long?” Lara asked.

“My last shift at Guys and St Thomas is in two weeks.”

“Two weeks!”

He rested his cheek on her hair. “Nothing, really, is it?”

“I have to go on a marketing course to Wales. It’s already booked. Two nights, in a fortnight’s time. I might miss your last day here.”

“It can’t be helped.”

Lara finished her tea and set the empty cup on a bench beside them. “I don’t even know what to say.”

He passed her his empty cup and she put it down beside her own. “You don’t need to say anything.”

They leaned into each other and Lara closed her eyes, wishing that their time together never had to end.

“Tell me about why you became a doctor,” Lara began softly.

Tom cleared his throat, and she had the sense he was thinking. “Well. My father’s a doctor, so there’s that.”

“But that’s not really why.”

“No. It isn’t. We were on holiday, my brother and my parents and I. I was quite young. My father was in the plane bathroom, so unavailable, and someone a few rows ahead started choking on something. Another doctor near us was out of his seat like a shot. And I remember thinking, he didn’t  _ need _ to help. But he just did. He got the food out and he stayed with the girl until he was sure she’d be okay.”

“Wow.”

“It made quite an impression on me.”

Lara sighed. “Would you stop being so perfect?”

He quirked a brow. “Why? Don’t you like it?”

“Shut up.” And she lifted her face for his kiss. He obliged, drawing her close until their lips touched. The kiss was tender, butterfly soft. And as Tom cupped her cheek and whispered her name before claiming her mouth again, a little piece of her heart drifted off, and was lost to him forever more.

******

SAM: Tell me you went back to his place!!!

LARA: Sorry. It was only ever PG rated.

SAM: Have I not taught you everything I know?!

LARA: Thankfully I tuned most of it out.

*****

LARA: Goodnight xxx

TOM: Goodnight, Lovely Lara x

*****

KITTY: Erm, Lara. You need to start working on that ad asap. We have a leak in the roof….. And I think it'll be expensive.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitty and Lara decide to let out the attic flat; Tom has plans for a rare weekend off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by my husband and I taking turns to write in the bacteria haven that is UK indoor softplay.

Lara and Kitty looked up at the hole in the roof above the children’s section, early on Monday morning, before the shop opened.

“Huh,” Lara said.

Kitty drank from her obscenely large mug which read I KILL YOU IF YOU TAKE MY CAFFEINE and frowned. “Told you.”

“I just thought… well, it didn’t seem that bad last month.”

Kitty sipped again. “It has been pretty monsoon-esque in London. I guess it was worse than we thought. We need a cash injection now.”

Lara drew her finger over her bottom lip, trying to think about a plan of action, rather than just fantasising about being kissed by Tom.

“Let’s have a look at the flat above, then,” she eventually said.

They climbed the stairs and entered the door that would remain locked if they ever managed to find a tenant. The tenant would use the outer door that connected to an exterior set of metal, fire escape style stairs on the side of the brick building.

Lara pushed the door open. The flat was musty, but clean. A large space boasted a king size bed, without sheets, but the mattress was spotless. There was a skylight above the kitchenette area, and a separate bathroom with fully functional rainforest shower. Kitty had insisted on a great crash space as in the beginning, she and Lara had lived and breathed the shop. They had spent every spare moment here, and the sweat, tears and swearing (lots of swearing) had paid off in dividends.

“Looks all right,” Lara said eventually, taking the hair elastic off her wrist and pushing her dark hair into a high ponytail. “Do we still have those papers for renting the space?”

“Yep. I looked last night, instead of having a life and a to-die-for Dr boyfriend,” Kitty deadpanned.

Lara rolled her eyes. “We both know you could have any man you wanted eating out of your hand in the space it took you to flutter your eyelashes.”

Kitty laughed and opened the skylight in the attic flat before closing the door to the shop. “Maybe so, but the way Tom looked at you on Saturday? I was basically invisible. He’s got it bad.”

Lara flushed pink as she started setting out tea cups and biscuits for the day’s customers. It was half term for schools in London, which always meant an extra influx of customers. They had hired a local storyteller to come in over lunch time to tell free fairy tales and had advertised the activity in the window for a month.

“I’m gutted about Edinburgh.”

Kitty came and slid her arms around her friend, squeezing tight. “Distance is no object if you feel that strongly about each other.”

“Says the woman who once turned down a Tinder date because he lived three tube stops away.”

Kitty swatted Lara. “It was  _ raining. _ ”

*****

ATTIC STUDIO FLAT FOR RENT ABOVE QUIET BOOKSHOP IN ELEPHANT & CASTLE

PRIVATE WC & BATHROOM

PRIVATE ENTRANCE

ALL BILLS INCLUDED

IDEAL FOR WESTMINSTER AND COVENT GARDEN

*****

SETH: Lara.

SETH: Is the ad for the flat above your shop?

SETH: I  _ really _ need somewhere to live. 

******

TOM: Do you have plans this coming weekend? I am rather reticent to say this, but the rota shows that I have been granted TWO DAYS OFF TOGETHER and I have some ideas on how we could make the most of them….

LARA: Allow me a moment to bribe Kitty with literally anything she wants. In the world.

TOM: **waits**

LARA: Okay, Kitty has arranged for our weekend boy to help her cover all day on Saturday. What did you have in mind?

TOM: Paris?

TOM: Do you not like Paris?

LARA: Sorry, I had to get back up on to my chair.

TOM: So that's a yes? I know this thing between us is very new, and going away so soon might be a mistake, but I would love to be in Paris with you.

LARA: Yes.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lara's brother learns about Tom, and Lara and Tom spend a little more time together before Paris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't tell you how happy all the comments make me. THANK YOU for reading this nonsense I'm writing.

“He could be a psychopath.”

Lara eyed her brother distastefully as she and her brother Sam shared drinks with him in a trendy bar on Savile Row. His treat - Lara would never have splurged on something so decadent. “He’s a doctor.”

Her brother Liam rolled his eyes as he lazily stirred the straw in his old fashioned. It was his favourite cocktail. As he did so, Lara noticed that several women sitting a few rows across from them watched his moves. Liam was, in Sam’s words (and the words of quite a lot of her other friends), a heartbreaker. The two of them were both completely obsessed with sex, so why they hadn’t got it on yet was a mystery to Lara.

“Two words,” Liam said. “Harold Shipman.”

“That is so not cool,” Lara admonished him.

“Too far, Liam.” Sam sighed and leaned into Lara. “As much I hate to side with the beefcake, Lara, you don’t know him that well. You’re going to another country.”

“Paris, not the Sudan!” Lara protested. She elbowed Sam. “ _ You _ were the one wanting me to go “beyond PG” with him on Sunday, might I remind you.”

Sam had a few sips of her cocktail and wisely stayed very quiet.

Liam reached across the table, new wood made to look old, trendy and scarred, and squeezed Lara’s hand. “I saw what you were like after Seth. I don’t want you to go through that again.”

“Tom is different.”

Liam rolled his eyes again. “If I had a cocktail for every time one of the women in my office said that, I’d have liver disease.”

“Who says you don’t already have that?” Sam snorted.

Liam cast a glare her way. Lara sighed internally. They should just get each other naked already. She’d give some thought later to setting it up.

Lara toyed with the pink, flamingo topped straw in her own over-the-top drink. It was a mojito with strawberry syrup - delicious, but so sweet it made her teeth rebel a bit. “I’ll give you his number and our arrival and departure times. Just in case.”

“You’ve no doubts at all?” Liam asked.

“None,” Lara answered immediately. “The only doubts I have are about our fledgling relationship being kicked out of the nest by his move to Edinburgh.”

“Nice metaphor,” Sam said.

Lara winked at her friend. “I didn’t study English lit at A Level for nothing.”

  
  


*******

TOM: Can I ask how you feel about hotels?

LARA: I like hotels.

TOM: Separate rooms?

Lara stared down at the text, sitting in the small sofa wedged into the break room at the shop. She’d given zero thought - well, OK, not  _ zero _ but not much - thought to being confined in a space with Tom where there was only one bed.

She was no blushing virgin, but the thought of being naked with him sent twin streaks of apprehension and excitement arrowing through her. 

What she’d said to Sam and Liam yesterday had been one hundred percent true. She had no fear of Tom whatsoever. She trusted him.

But trusting someone and being read for getting busy with them were two different things.

The fact he’d  _ offered _ separate rooms made her warm inside. He was considerate, would never do anything to force her out of her comfort zone.

LARA: Twin room, maybe?

TOM: I may snore.

LARA:  _ I _ may snore.

LARA: What do I owe you for this little jaunt, by the way?

She had some money in savings for a rainy day, not enough to fix the roof, which they’d patched awkwardly with duct tape and some help from Liam, but certainly enough to contribute to this weekend trip.

TOM: Absolutely nothing but the pleasure of your company.

********

LARA: I can’t wait for tomorrow. I’ll be working late at the shop tonight to get as much done for Kitty was possible, so feel free to message on your break.

TOM: Maybe I could stop by after I finish? It’ll be after nine, though.

********

The bright street lamps of London shone down on the wet pavements. Much of the fallen Autumn leaves had been swept away by the council roadsweepers and the concrete remained a shiny, uninterrupted grey.

Lara stared out of the window for a moment, looking but not really seeing. Her mind was on Seth’s extremely unexpected text messages about the attic flat.

She’d sell a kidney before she came into the same space as him again. She’d rather be on another planet, but unfortunately science hadn’t caught up to that yet, despite sci fi’s and Elon Musk’s best efforts.

However, they  _ did _ need the money. And as yet, miraculously, no one else had contacted them about the room. How could that be? The rent was pretty low, at least a little below average for this area. Okay, so the flat was a studio, but bigger than a lot of the cupboards around London that were unfairly advertised as “apartments.” Some of them barely fit a bed inside.

She unwrapped a new delivery of books to set out in the children’s area. Winter versions of the classic  _ Guess How Much I Love You. _

She skimmed her fingers over the embossed image of the Big Brown Hare and the Little Brown Hare, thinking that she’d one day like to have a child to hold, to kiss and read the book to as the little babe drifted off into dreams.

And thank goodness she’d never gone down that road with Seth.

Her unhappy thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the window. 

There, under a streetlamp, holding a large black umbrella, stood Tom. He held up a bottle of wine in his free hand and lifted his eyebrow in question.

Lara hurried to let him in, acknowledging how vain it was to stop by the mirror near the door to check her hair.

She swung the door open and let him in. He shook his umbrella outside, slid it into the porcelain sleeve Kitty had set by the entrance for customers to leave wet brollies and other items.

“Hi,” she breathed.

“Hi.” He reached out, then dropped his hand. “I’m soaked.”

“It’s just water.” She pulled him close anyway and lifted her face for his kiss. His skin was wet from the rain, and he smelled like Autumn - fresh rain, a hint of citrussy spice. Her heart beat hard as their tongues danced for a moment.

She pulled back when water trickled down into her jumper. “You  _ are _ wet. Let’s get that coat off.”

He followed her through the staff area where she hung his coat. His tall, lean frame dominated the small space as Lara opened the cupboard and took out two stout glasses.

“We don’t keep wine glasses here, sorry.”

“Am I interrupting your work? I know we’re getting an early train tomorrow, but….”

Lara looked up and met his clear blue gaze. “But?”

He cupped her cheek, stroked his thumb over her bottom lip. “I had to see you. It’s been a long week.”

She slid her arms around his neck, held him close, breathed him in. Things were moving fast, she didn’t deny that. But sometimes, when you knew, you just knew. Couldn’t that be the case with them?

Tom dropped a kiss on her forehead and stepped back. “Can I help? With the books?”

Lara poured the wine and passed him one of the glasses. “Aren’t you exhausted?”

“Oh, I am, but there’s…. A buzz at the end of a shift that I find it hard to shake straight away. You’d be doing me a favour.”

The way he said  _ favour _ in that deep, sensual voice made Lara immediately think of other kinds of favours. Ones where you were normally naked.

She swallowed the desire pooling in her mouth. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

They worked for an hour and finished half the bottle of wine between them. By the time they had finished arranging the new stock to Lara’s satisfaction, the clock showed that the hour was late, a quarter to eleven.

“Please, let me walk you back,” Tom offered as Lara set the last copy of their new haul of Sophie Kinsella books on to the display.

“I was thinking I’ll sleep in the attic flat, and leave early tomorrow. Easier. I keep a few things there, in case Kitty or I get carried away with working, like we did when we were just starting out.”

He stood and offered her a hand. Lara took it, and when he held her up he enfolded her in his arms, one broad, warm palm stroking her back. Lara leaned into him, wishing the moment would last forever and that she could wrap it up like something precious, hide it away from the light to keep it from fading.

“Goodnight, Lovely Lara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have half drafted chapter 11 already. Get ready for some serious romancin' in Paris!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A romantic twenty four hours in Paris begins!

_ Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome aboard the oh eight thirty Eurostar service direct from London St Pancras to Paris Gare du Nord. Our journey time will be approximately two hours and thirty five minutes. In car C you will find a buffet fully stocked with- _

Lara leaned into Tom as the Eurostar sped along, leaving London behind.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

He smiled into her hair. “You’re happy, though?”

“I’m on my way to Paris for a whirlwind twenty hour-ish hours with one of the best looking men I have ever seen. How could I  _ not _ be happy?”

“I’m glad,” he said softly, his voice low, for her ears only.

“If I forget to say afterwards,” Lara began, twining her hand with hers, “I had a really excellent time.”

It was only just after nine, but the morning had been a dream. Lara had woken with the birds to the splintery light of Autumn streaming into the attic flat skylight. After packing her overnight bag and dressing in a denim jacket, red cord dress and leather flats, she’d arrived at London St Pancras to find Tom waiting against one of the pillars in the traditional style station, wearing a dark tweed jacket over a button down shirt, open at the neck, no tie. Her heart had honest to God fluttered at the sight of him, hair slightly messy as if he’d run his fingers through it, blue eyes clear as a summer sky.

The late night of working and getting up early to shower and pack had caught up with her, and Lara let her eyes drift closed as the Eurostar shuttled them efficiently under the sea and towards France.

She woke to the gentle feel of Tom’s lips on her forehead.

“Are we already here?” she asked sleepily.

“No, but the champagne is.”

Lara opened her eyes to find a half bottle of Moet in a cute little ice bucket on the fold down tables in front of them. She turned to him, surprised. “You didn’t.”

His smile was quick and deadly - his handsomeness increased by a hundred percent with just that cheeky curve of his lips. “I didn’t see any reason not to.”

Not used to such opulence, Lara hesitated when he offered her a glass. “You don’t need to spoil me like this, Tom.”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You’re on your way to Paris for the weekend. Pretty sure  _ being spoiled _ is part of the agenda.”

  
  


******

By the time the Eurostar pulled in to Gare du Nord, Lara was at least two sheets to the wind. Her body bubbled with the infusion of champagne and with the giddy knowledge that Tom was hers and hers alone until tomorrow afternoon. He turned her around inside; messed her up. She hardly knew her own name when he looked into her eyes, his own that startlingly clear azure, so arresting. She often felt he saw right through her, to her every thought, hope, desire and need.  _ He couldn’t be more perfect for me if I’d created him myself. _

Tom linked their fingers as they passed through the ticketed gates. “Let’s leave our suitcases at the hotel, shall we? And then…. An early lunch?”

The studied opulence of the hotel stunned her speechless. The beautiful old building had loomed over them as they’d walked in, both welcoming and imposing, a reminder of times gone by. An antique, Murano glass chandelier hung from the double-height ceiling. 

Glittering terrazzo flooring clicked under her heels. The armchairs, deep and soft, upholstered in blue velvet, begged to be sank into. She ran her hand over the back of one as Tom spoke with the clerk about leaving their luggage. Soft as silk, the deep chair’s fabric whispered to her of quality and comfort.  _ Sit in me a while, why don’t you. _

Tom appeared by her side. “Our room’s ready. Would you like to see it?”

They followed the friendly clerk up in the lift - even that small space was beautifully designed, the mirror ornately framed - to their room, and he helpfully showed them around. Lara couldn’t help pausing by the larger than average twin beds, buffeted by beautiful hand-blown glass headboards at one end, and rosebud silk runners at the other.

“This is a fantasy version of a hotel room,” she breathed.

Opposite the end of the beds, floor-to-ceiling French windows overlooked the bustling city, where stalls selling fresh pastries and silk scarves plied their trade. Creamy rococo curtains framed the clear glass, topped with a beautiful silk-trimmed pelmet.

The bathroom was a gorgeous study in travertine. Everything looked as if it had been built by nature, not the human hand.

She dreaded to think what it cost. Even the toiletries by the sink proclaimed that they were hand produced by a local, vegan Parisian boutique.

“I’ve never been anywhere so beautiful,” Lara breathed, drinking in the sight and sound of Paris from the small balcony.

Tom came to stand behind her, whispering a kiss on her neck. “Wait until you see the view from the Eiffel Tower. You’re an absolute delight to spoil, Lara Hirst.”

She inclined her head to give him better access, and with a little hum, he trailed that clever mouth down her neck, kissing the sensitive curve where her shoulder began. His arms tightened around her waist and Lara let her head fall back.

As he explored the skin above her dress, he kept his hands at her waist - very gentlemanly. Lara would have appreciated it if she hadn’t wanted, desperately, for him to be just a little less polite.

Her stomach growled, interrupting the moment.

Tom smiled against her shoulder. “Sounds like we need something to eat. Are you hungry?”

_ For more than just French bread, _ she almost said, but nodded. “That sounds great. I can’t wait to see the city.”

Paris beckoned. There would be ample time to explore the man by her side when night fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never been in a hotel as opulent as this. But my sister in law is a superyacht designer for the rich and famous and she has!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure sugar-spun fantasy and not a lot else, set in a tiny moonlit piazza in Paris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look away now if you don't want any part of this tooth-rotting fluff.

“I couldn’t eat one more bite,” Lara sighed as she leaned back in her chair. Her plate, now empty, had held the most delicious coq au vin she’d ever tasted - and that was saying something, as when the mood took her, she was a damn good cook herself.

Tom smiled at her indulgently as he took the last bite of his own beef bourginon. It was amazing; she knew because he’d fed her a few bites.

The little eatery, tucked away at the back of a piazza off a side street ten minutes from the base of the Eiffel Tower, had beckoned them with its live music thanks to a pair of teenage violinists. Fresh flowers bloomed from tiny jugs used as makeshift vases, and old fashioned lanterns hung from the roof, glowing with  _ actual _ candles.

It couldn’t have been more charming if Lara had taken it directly from the pages of a romance novel.

“Not interested in the dark chocolate creme brulee then?”

Her interest piqued. “I mean, there is a separate stomach for that.”

They laughed together as Paris twinkled under a blanket of stars. The moon hung, heavy and waxy, in the sky overhead.

They’d spent the day in and around the Eiffel Tower, and lazily wandering along the River Seine from tiny coffee shop to tiny bakery and back again, holding hands, talking. For the longest time they’d sat on the riverbank on a bench, Tom’s arm warm around her as she snuggled into him, watching the world go by.

The violinists struck up a waltz and several couples at adjoining tables stood up to dance. Lara smiled to herself.  _ So Parisian. _ She’d never seen that in London except when unsafe quantities of alcohol had been involved.

“Come on.” Tom folded his napkin and stood. “Let’s dance.”

Lara looked up at him with his hand outstretched. His hair rumpled, backlit by the rose-gold lantern light, with his shirt open at the neck, his face open and kind, he was every girl’s fantasy come to life.

“Why?”

“Because we can. Everyone else is,” he insisted, a grin tugging at his lips. He was carefree, relaxed. She loved seeing him like this.

_ I love his laugh. I love holding his hand. I love listening to him wax lyrical about the sights of Paris. _

_ Maybe I just love…. him. _

She shifted, trying to fight the battle between her wish to dance in his arms and her very British discomfort at doing anything like dancing in public.

Giving in, she placed her hand in his. As his fingers curled around hers and he helped her to her feet, she suddenly felt a keen lance of sadness piercing at her. Their time was slipping through her fingers, sand through an endless hourglass.

He pulled her towards him, spun her around for a second. Giddy, she leaned into him as the violinists played. 

“This is mad, isn’t it?” But she rested her free hand on his shoulder just the same, and let him lead her. Heat radiated off his body through the thin Oxford shirt he wore, and she looked down at their feet. “I didn’t know you knew how to waltz.” She looked up into his eyes. They appeared almost black in the half-light as he met her gaze. 

“A gentleman always knows how to dance with a lady.”

Lara let herself relax into him, let him lead. He was capable, gentle, making her forget she had two left feet. She’d never danced a waltz like this before, with such an experienced partner, never been seduced like this in a tiny, moonlit street in Paris with the stars looking down on the city, golden in a sheet of navy.

“I forgot today that you’re leaving,” she said in a small voice.

“Good.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, and that gorgeous tumble of antique gold hair fell into his face, a little messy. The way she liked it. “That’s what I wanted.”

The expression on his face – so naked suddenly, not a single trace of artifice – made her bold suddenly. Or perhaps it was the alcohol. But they were in Paris, the city of love. They were dancing a waltz in a pretty little piazza. Rose-gold light warmed everything, and just for now, she would be brave. She would believe in magic, and she would believe in happy endings.

And she wouldn’t think further than this man in her arms. He was solid and real and right now, he was hers. Right now, there would be no talk of Edinburgh or that most relationships in the medical profession ended badly.

Tears burned her eyes as her heart constricted. Yes, she would be brave, because this man, and the way he made her feel, was worth  _ everything _ .

And she would gladly pay whatever cost would be levied later.

“Is that all you want?” She gently tidied a curl of his hair that had slipped on to his forehead. It felt so soft.

She’d surprised him. She knew because he held still for a long moment before continuing with the waltz. Someone else might not to have noticed the slip, but Lara did. In some ways she had never stopped noticing him, ever since that day in the emergency room.

“You know what I want.” His words were so soft, intimate, they were nearly carried away by the notes from the nearby violins. But still she caught them. “You.” He swallowed and she watched the movement of his throat, transfixed for a second. “Any way I can get you. Any way you’ll have me.”

Tom’s hand on her waist tightened, pulling her a fraction closer. Lara pressed her face into his neck, drinking him in, knowing they had reached a tipping point. 

He wanted to make love to her. 

“Tonight?” her words came out squeakier than she’d hoped. She wondered if he’d laugh.

He didn’t.

“Tonight.”

She stopped dancing, and he mirrored her. They both held still for a long moment. Lara closed her eyes, knowing that her decision could change everything between them. Maybe forever.

She opened her eyes again. He stood before her still, so solid and real. And hers, for now anyway. And she would take everything he gave her tonight, and hold it close inside her heart.

She would take the now. To hell with tomorrow and afterwards.  _ That’s future Lara’s problem _ . “Tom.”

“Hmm.” He whispered his mouth over hers. He tasted of red wine and the spices from his beef dish. It was a heady combination.

“Take me back to the hotel. Right now.” Before she could lose her nerve.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally some smut, although I did say I wasn't going to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't tell the characters what to do. They do what they want.

SAM: How romantic IS Paris? Don’t keep me in suspense!?

****

Lara gasped when Tom scooped her up in his arms just moments after they arrived back into their room. 

Surprised, she wrapped her legs around his waist to hold on, to anchor herself.

Murmuring his name, she took his mouth in a hard kiss, drinking him in, never wanting it to end.

If only they could stop here, never leave the hotel. Never leave Paris. Then she’d never have to deal with the potential fallout of him moving to another country.

It was hardly halfway across the world, she knew that, but in a new relationship, any distance could be the death knoll.

As they kissed, she toyed with the first fastened button of his shirt, popped it open, then another and another, greedily smoothing her fingers over the exposed skin she revealed, roughened with scattered whorls of chest hair. She liked the friction; liked the masculinity of the hair there.

“Tom.” His name on her lips was a fervent prayer. She could hardly credit the fact that he was here now, for the taking, tonight, in every way that mattered.

She shut any worries about the future down. She was here now, and now was for living. Losing her Dad had warned her off regrets. Regrets didn’t get you anything but pain.

Tom’s heart beat a ragged tattoo under her palm, reminding her of her own desire; her own impatience to undress him.

Without breaking the kiss, he stepped backwards and sat down on one of the larger than average twin beds, Lara now kneeling either side of his hips.

“Shirt,” she bit out against his mouth. He obediently let go of her for a moment and she tugged the material down his arms, sliding it away across the bed, where neither of them missed it.

With an inward groan, she spread her hands over his bare chest. The antique-gold curls of hair there felt rough against her palms and she relished the sensation, stroking him over and over as if she might be able to imprint something of him on herself.  _ For when he’s gone. _

Tom’s hands were hot on her waist as he held her tight. She nipped at his tempting bottom lip as his fingers started on the back zipper of her red cord dress, easing the tin tab of metal downwards until the straps of the garment slipped down her shoulders. He smoothed his palm over the skin exposed by the gaping sides of the dress. His hand was large and warm.

“I've dreamt of you like this,” he whispered against her mouth as she kissed him, small, tasting kisses, enough to make them both want more. “Ever since that day in your bookshop. Half-undressed. Alone with me.”

She smiled. “I hope it’s not the last time.”

His low, intimate laugh stirred desire in her belly. “Fear not.”

“Sure of ourselves, aren't we?”

Tom gently disengaged her arms from the capped sleeves of her fallen dress, one by one, his touch sure, gentle, sparking little frissons of desire. “I've achieved this much, haven't I? Besides. You're too bewitching for me to stop now.”

He looked up, and their eyes met, his dark pools of the deepest ocean blue. She'd love nothing more than to drown in those eyes and never come up for air.

She loved that he used words like  _ bewitching. _

“I bet that's what you tell all the girls.” She tried for humour, ignoring the little pinch of jealousy that she would be far from the first woman in his bed.

“No.” He cupped her cheek and dropped a soft kiss on her mouth, so tender and sweet, so utterly unguarded, that her eyes burned for a moment. “I don't.”

“I believe you.”

They sat together for a moment, both almost reverent in the stillness. The rest of the world had fallen away, had narrowed to tonight, to the fire that leapt between them.

“Arms up,” Tom said gently. 

Lara obeyed, and he drew the pretty dress up over her head, letting it fall by the bed, the soft whisper of the fabric the only sound in the room.

She watched Tom’s strikingly handsome face as he traced a finger over the lacy white cups of her bra. Her heart jumped as his finger dipped along with the fabric. The second time, he moved his finger down to the centre of one of the cups, stroking her nipple. She breathed in sharply at the sensation, the sensitive flesh pebbling immediately at his touch.

“Exquisite.” His gaze lifted to meet hers and she saw the fire in his eyes. It made her feel beautiful.

And wanton.

She cupped his face in her hands, kissing him very deeply. As his tongue danced over hers, she moved to fist a hand in his hair, a river of sadness spearing through her at the thought that they might not be together like this for a while again after tonight. His shifts and the transfer and the marketing course in Wales would all conspire against them.

Tears burned the back of her eyes and she broke the kiss, swallowing hard.

Tom looked up at her, concern writ large on his face. “Darling. What's the matter?”

He could call her  _ darling _ in that voice and she would, Lara thought, probably do anything at all for him.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” If tonight was all they had, for a long time, so be it.

_ Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. _

“Then let's take the rest of these off,” he said softly. His voice was so gentle that Lara almost didn't hear him over the roar of her own heartbeat. His hands moved around to stroke up and down her back, before he finally released the clasp on her bra.

She expected him to touch her straight away, but instead his gaze stayed focused on her face for a moment that lasted a very long time. He stroked her hair back from her face, and only when she was about to open her mouth and beg, damn him, he cupped her breasts in his palms and stroked them gently.

His touch stoked the already raging fire inside her and she pushed at his chest so he lay back on the bed. She straddled him, grinning.

Tom arched a brow and looked up at her, a smile playing on his lips. “Want control, do we?”

“Yes.”

She leaned down and bit his lower lip gently, then peppered kisses over his face, down his neck, pausing to lave her tongue over the place where his pulse point beat raggedly. She had been fantasising about this, if she was honest, since that day in the hospital. Now she was going to do everything she'd ever thought about doing with and to him.

And he was going to lie back and take it.

She heard his sharp intake of breath as she gently bit the curve where his neck met his shoulder. She smoothed her hands down his chest, closed her eyes for a long moment, just breathing him in.

Now was the time for action.

She slid down his body, pressing open-mouthed kisses down his chest and stomach. When she reached his tn leather belt, she hesitated, and looked up.

Tom lifted his head and smiled slightly at her. “Changed your mind?”

Because she knew that if she  _ had _ , he would back up and respect her wishes, she told him; “Never.”

He lay back. “I'm yours.”

That snapped her. She unbuckled his belt and slid it through the little fabric loops, tossing it the way of her dress. His erection tented his trousers and she slid the button at his waist through its eyelet, and then slowly, very slowly, dragged the zipper of his suit trousers down, prolonging the movement for them both.

“ _ Lara _ .”

She ignored his hoarse murmur of her name and instead slid the fabric down his legs, smiling to herself as she disrobed him of socks and shoes. When she joined him again on the bed, she trailed her fingers along his hip. The black boxers hugged his narrow hips and she moistened her lips.

She would not think of other lovers he might have had. 

To vanish the thoughts, she was bold, and cupped her hand over his erection. Tom drew in a deep breath but didn't move, letting her take the lead. And she did, slowly, painstakingly slowly, easing the fabric of his underwear over his hips, until, inch by inch, she revealed him.

Tossing the underwear aside, she touched him with her whole hand, grasping his hardened flesh and stroking him, once, twice, until his breathing became shallow.

She looked up at his face, contorted with pleasure. These memories would never leave her as long as she lived.

Lara replaced her hand with her mouth.

He was the first man she'd ever done this with. If she let her heart speak, it would say he should be the last man she was with, period – but life didn't always work like that.

His hips arched and he made a strangled sound. Lara drew him deeper into her mouth, focusing on his pleasure, curling her tongue around him and learning what made him gasp, what made him tremble.

She only stopped when he squeezed a warning hand in her hair.

“Not like this,” he said hoarsely. “Not the first time.”

Reluctantly she moved up his body and he yanked her close, holding her tight. For a long moment he buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathing hard. When he pulled back he kissed her, very gently.

“Your turn.”

Tom lay her back on the bed and began to feast on her breasts, his warm, flexible tongue making her head spin. She clutched at his soft tumble of hair as he rolled her nipple on his tongue. She felt him smile against her breast and she cupped his cheek with her free hand. When his mouth moved to her stomach, every muscle in her body froze.

He hovered over her hips, his breath warming her through the very thin material of her panties.

“Let's get these off,” he said, very softly, his words turning her insides to hot liquid. He hooked his fingers in the sides of the garment.

And proceeded to put his silver tongue to very, very good use.

  
  


****

SETH: So is the flat still available or what? Even if it isn’t, I have unfinished business with you, Lara. Please.

****

SAM: Liam wants to know if you’re still alive.

LARA: If it was possible to die from orgasms, then I would have. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in Paris, and later, a bit of unwelcome tension.

Dappled sunlight played over Tom’s bare torso as he slept.

Lara leaned up on her elbow and enjoyed the gentle rise and fall of his chest. His lashes were thick and dark against his cheeks, one arm thrown up over his head in repose.

Last night, laughing, they’d managed to push the two twin beds together, draping themselves over each other, a tangle of sweaty, satisfied limbs, kissing and talking lazily as they slipped into sleep.

They’d made love twice. The orgasms had blown her head off. Tom was considerate and thorough, taking time to learn what she liked, just how to touch her and where. She’d returned the favour, mapping his long, lean body with scientific attention.

With some regret, she slipped out of their makeshift double bed to use the bathroom. Afterwards, she slipped her phone out of her coat pocket and thumbed through the messages. _ Seth. _ Lara rolled her eyes so hard she was surprised they didn’t pop out. If he thought there was any chance of him living within shouting distance of her, he had another thing coming.#

Her phone vibrated with a new message.

KITTY: I hate to bother you in Paris, but the leak is getting worse. And some _ bastard _ nicked a couple of high value velvet-look hardbacks when Tony was in the bathroom.

Lara read the text a few times and bit her lip. Tony was their weekend boy and generally very good, but if a thief was determined enough, opportunities would be found.

LARA: Any other applicants for the room?

KITTY: Not a sausage. The universe, it doth shit upon us from a great height.

Lara mentally tallied her options. Liam? He’d just bought a house and probably wouldn’t have much capital. Lara’s own mum had become more anxious than usual since her husband’s death. Neither Lara nor Liam wanted to burden her unnecessarily, and what assets she had were tied up in her house.

Kitty’s parents lived modestly. Maybe they could help? She and Kitty could potentially apply for an extension to their business loan, but it would take time they didn’t have if they wanted to keep the shop running. Which they did, very much.

LARA: Fine. Tell Seth he can have it on a six month let. 

_ I’m a grown woman, I can handle it. I’ll just think of the money. _

She put her phone down just as Tom’s arms slipped around her from behind. She looked up and met his deep blue gaze in the wide bathroom mirror. “Morning.”

“Morning.” He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “Last night was perfection.”

Lara leaned back into him, pushing thoughts of Seth aside. It could wait until later, later when they were back in London and reality re-invaded her bubble of rosy Parisian bliss. She smiled. “We smell like sex.”

“I like it.” He nuzzled the curve where her neck met her shoulder. “But the citizens of Paris may not.”

“You think?” Laughing, she turned her head to nip at his tempting lower lip. “Isn’t Paris the city of love? I would think they’d be well used to it.”

“Minx.” He kissed her back, stroking his tongue over hers. Passion flared, and Tom switched their positions so they held each other chest to chest. “Shower?” he whispered the question against her lips.

The water rained down on them as Tom lathered up the soap between his hands. Lara obligingly turned so he could wash her back. The scent of the expensive bergamot cleanser filled the bathroom as he slid the suds over her skin. When his clever fingers reached around to soap her breasts, she arched her back to grant him better access. As the rainfall shower pelted them with hot water, Lara thrilled to the feel of his cock, pressing heavy and insistent against the small of her back.

“Bed?” he asked against her ear, one hand sliding down to toy between her legs. He stroked her languidly, and she pressed her thighs together, holding his fingers in place as much as possible as pleasure streaked through her.

She turned in his arms, skimming her hands downwards, cupping him intimately. “I think you’re forgetting that _ you _ need to be clean, too.”

****

Much later, they ate breakfast in the hotel’s beautiful, old-grandeur terrace restaurant. Tom fed Lara bites of his pain au chocolat and they traded stories of favourite films and books as they ate.

Before lunch, they wandered the Louvre. In front of _ The Raft of the Medusa, _ Lara finally worked up the nerve she needed. “Tom.”

“Hmmm.” 

He looked _ delectable _ in his suit jacket, the grey Henley underneath open at the top to reveal the hollow of his throat and just a lick of his chest.

“I have something to tell you. You remember when we met?”

He cupped her elbow and steered her through a small tour group, red flags in their backpacks, towards one of the carved wooden benches in the centre of the wide gallery so they could sit. He met her gaze, held it. It was one of the things Lara had loved about him since their first ever meeting. He gave her his full attention, never wavering.

Wetting her lips, she told him all about the leak in the shop and about the plans to let out the attic flat for extra income. And about Seth’s messages. She watched emotions play over Tom’s face as she spoke.

“So….” she breathed, once the story was all out. Nervous, she twisted the old leather strap of her watch. “What do you think?”

“I think I’d quite like to punch him in the face,” Tom said evenly. “Lara, I have the money-”

“No.”

He raised a brow. When he spoke, his voice was low, and dangerous. “So you’d rather basically live with someone who treated you like a piece of meat than borrow money from me?”

“It’s not about that. It’s about….” _ Pride, _ she almost said. _ Doing it on our own. _ She and Kitty had always managed the shop finances themselves, without handouts. They were fiercely independent, hating charity.

Tom’s gaze was sharp on hers. “Think about it,” he urged.

“I’ve already told Kitty it’s OK. There’s a separate entrance and everything. Hopefully, I’ll never see him,” she added, sick to her stomach.

“Don’t be naive. He’ll make excuses to see you. You must know that.”

Lara swallowed. “Can we not? Not today. Please.”

Sliding his arm around her, Tom pulled her close and rested his cheek against her hair. "Darling. I hate to think about you in this situation while I'm in Edinburgh. I wish I could stay in London. Promise me you'll be careful, all right?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our lovers travel back from Paris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for an unintended hiatus! Hope you enjoy this fluffy, smutty chapter.

Hours later, Lara snuggled into Tom on the Eurostar home. He’d ordered champagne again, despite her protests (to be fair, it hadn’t taken much for him to convince her). 

Her feet ached from walking the gorgeous, art-strewn halls of the Louvre, her stomach felt pleasantly full of the most savoury and delicious coq au vin, and her heart was  _ full _ to bursting of Tom. She felt so light, dizzy, full of bubbles and hope and pure joy. By silent agreement they hadn't spoken any more of what tomorrow would bring. Of Seth and why Lara wouldn't take Tom's money or anything about their regular life. It would keep, Lara thought, for another few hours. It had to.

“Have a good time?” he asked softly, idly stroking his thumb over her knuckles.

“I never wanted it to end.”

Tom’s phone chirped and he dug it from his pocket, glancing at it. “Oh. Yes. I meant to ask you. This coming weekend…. It’s still a week away from your marketing course, isn’t it?”

She’d forgotten about that and Lara sighed internally. But it was paid for, and honestly, she’d been itching to go on it before meeting Tom. She needed to do it. Kitty couldn’t give two figs about marketing but  _ someone _ had to. Especially if they were going to use Seth’s rent money not only for the roof but for a new website. No matter how much she wanted to take this blossoming, beautiful thing with Tom and wrap it carefully in cotton wool, shielding it from the sun so it never faded, she had a life, a job, other responsibilities.

“Yep,” she replied.

“How do you feel about meeting my brother and his family? They’ve invited me for a barbecue and naturally I told him about you.”

“You did?”

He smiled against her hair. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She let her eyes drift closed again, the gentle motion of the train carriage soothing her into a half doze. “I hope they’ll like me.”

“If they like  _ me, _ they’ll love you. Will and Jenn are lovely. Funny, Friendly. And Will grills an excellent steak. To be fair it is his only redeeming feature.”

Lara laughed and sipped her champagne. “Tom.”

“Mmmm.”

“Do you think we’re going too fast?”

He set a gentle finger under her chin, tilting it up so she met his azure gaze. “Do  _ you _ ?”

“No. I don’t. But. I’m afraid of how perfect you are.” Her stomach clutched, some part of her worrying about the eventual fallout from something that couldn't have been more perfect if she'd ripped it from the pages of her teenage diary.

“Hardly.” He dropped a chaste kiss on her lips, one that had her keening inside for more, for another taste, for another chance to slide her palms over his long, lean torso, to fist her hands in his sunkissed-hay curls and devour him until they were both breathless from it. “Spend another night with me. Just us. Before our messy lives intervene again. Forget about Seth moving in and my insane hours and the shop… forget about all of it.”

When he put it like that, how could she refuse?

They caught a cab back to Lara’s studio, as it was the closest to the station. Fumbling with clothes and overnight bags, they staggered down the hallway. Tom pressed Lara against her door as she fumbled with her keys, dropping them once before sliding them home. They fell through the doorway, a tangle of limbs and teeth and tongues bag straps and whispered promises. 

Lara kicked the door closed and shoved aside their bags as she rolled on top of him on the floor, opening his suit jacket and spreading the panels with their silky jet blue lining, trapping his arms.

He smiled up at her wickedly, his pupils blown with lust, irises blue as midnight in the moonlight from her small attic window. “At your mercy, am I?”

“Always.” She kissed her way down his neck, licking at the hollow of his throat, drinking in the  _ mmmmm _ noise he made deep in his chest. The sexy rumble spurred on her, and she hiked up the hem of his henley, greedily spanning her palms over the solid warmth of his naked torso. He purred under her ministrations as she kissed him there too, learning the tickle of his spattering of golden chest hair as she tongued his flat nipples.

She hoped it would ever be like this. This hot, this desperate, this gorgeous _ .  _

Impatient, she popped the fly of his jeans, rested on her knees as she maneuvered him out of the denim and then out of the slit in his underwear. She watched the lust play openly over his face as she stroked him with both hands, squeezing, palming, weighing.

He threw out an arm under the spread suit jacket, never taking his eyes off her hands playing with him, scrabbled for a bag, and fumbled until a condom wrapper fell out.

Lara took it from him, gazing at him through half closed eyes as she ripped the foil packet and very, very slowly eased it down over him, stroking as she went. The only light in her flat came from the moonlight splintering in from the high window, touching Tom’s cheekbones, his mouth made for sin, the place where his pulse jumped below his jaw. He was a fantasy come to life, trapped between her thighs, and Lara resisted the urge to pinch herself to check if she was dreaming.

Hiking up her dress, she slid aside the loose cotton underwear she wore and slowly sank down on him.

“Lara.” With some difficulty, he maneuvered off the suit jacket, then, hands free, grasped her hips, urging her into a rhythm. Once that was established, he smoothed one nimble hand up her thigh to stroke at the apex of her sex.

They tumbled over the edge together, Lara sliding bonelessly down on to Tom’s chest as the moon continued to watch silently.

Tom played with the hair at the nape of her neck. “Pizza?”

She smiled against the curve where his neck met his shoulder. Reality would keep until tomorrow morning. Until then, they'd crawl under the duvet, make a fort, and eat pizza inside it, feeding each other warm, cheesy slices under the covers until tiredness overcame them.

Later, she watched the moon from her position on the bed, curled into Tom as he snored softly, his handsome face totally relaxed in slumber. He smelled of French food, melted cheese and sex, and she breathed the intoxicating combination in, never wanting to let him go.

"I think I love you," she whispered as his chest rose and fell in the rhythm of sleep.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a slow chapter, but there's plot - and SMUT - coming, I promise.

Lara stood outside Guys and St Thomas as the sun was coming up, her arms around Tom, snuggled into his coat. He held the edges around her as they kissed. He tasted of bitter black coffee and bergamot, and she smiled against his mouth, breathing him in. Never wanting to let him go. At least, not today.

“Thanks for dropping me off.”

“Have to make sure my boy gets to work safely.”

He smoothed her hair back from her face and she leaned into his warm, wide palm. “Is that what I am now? Yours?”

She gazed at him in the splintery autumnal morning light, his face scruffy, his eyes tired, blazing that pacific blue. They'd stayed up late, exploring each other's bodies, and finding out what made Tom moan low in his throat, what made his body bow into hers, was fast becoming Lara's favourite hobby. “Yes.”

“Good.” And he kissed her fiercely, his lips soft, his jaw rough with whiskers, his body solid and warm against hers, and nothing had been more perfect.

He waved her goodbye as he walked through the automatic doors, and she thought:  _ I’d do anything for this feeling. _

All the way to the shop, her heart ached pleasantly in her chest. Then she let herself in to carnage.

Kitty and Seth stood at opposite ends of the shop, each looking as if they were about to do battle. Kitty’s arms were folded, her eyes promising murder, her hackles well and truly up.

“I don’t see the big deal,” Seth continued, “I - Oh hey Lara.”

“Hi,” she replied, keeping her tone even.  _ Think of the new roof. _ “Settling in?”

“Kitty won’t give me a key to the shop door.”

Lara’s eyes went wide. “Of course not. You have your own entrance around the side. It’d be madness to give you free rein over the shop at night.”

“And what about the danger of climbing those steps at night? It’s badly lit.”

Sweeping her gaze over him, Lara bit her tongue at his tone. If this was going to work, they needed to tolerate each other. “It’s climb those steps or find somewhere else to live, Seth, I’m afraid. I have to get to work. Are you all moved in?”

“It’s why I gave him access in the first place,” Kitty explained as she started to set the till up for the day, the ring of keys at her belt jangling. “To unpack his things.”

Lara moved to help her. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” To Seth she added “Hadn’t you better get to work?”

He gazed at her for a moment, and just for a second she saw his narrowed eyes soften, his expression warm, and she remembered when it had been good between them. But that was water way, way under the bridge, and she had no wish to revisit it. “We need to talk later.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that,” she said cheerfully. “Bye.”

And she hid in the stock room until Kitty poked her head in and said he’d gone.

“Here.” The other woman pressed a steaming mug of tea into Lara’s hands. “If we had any rum, I’d dose it. How was Paris?”

“Like a perfect dream wrapped in the body of an Adonis.”

“That good?” Kitty laughed. “Wow. I’ve got to start hanging around that hospital in my free time.”

The day passed quickly, busy as the good people of London had started their Christmas shopping. A delivery of new paperbacks from a couple of popular crime writers came in to be unpacked, and Lara received an email request from a local writer to hold a signing in their shop the week before Christmas.

On lunch she checked her phone as she waited in line for a sandwich at Pret. A text from Tom made her grin from ear to ear.

TOM: Missing you already.

LARA: It took you this long? :)

TOM: Oh no. I missed you the minute I got through the hospital doors. But I’ve been busy doing very worthy things like wiping the brows of poorly babies and couldn’t text until now.

She snorted out a laugh as she carried her sandwich back to the shop. He had a wicked sense of humour and it really tickled her. She should have been nervous at the thought of meeting his family this weekend, but no nerves fluttered in her stomach. Just plain happiness, and it felt like a warm hug on a cold morning.

  
  


******

As Lara went to lock up, Seth appeared by the door. A light rain fell, and he’d clearly come out without an umbrella, his short hair plastered to his head, his thin brown jacket soaked. Water dripped down his face.

Lara pulled the door shut. “Your entrance is to the left.”

“Lara-”

She held up a hand, palm out. “This is a business arrangement. You pushed for it, and for some reason I felt some shred of human sympathy for you, so I agreed. You live there now. I intend to leave you to it. Just feel lucky you have somewhere to call home.”

His eyes shuttered and then refocused on her. “I made a terrible mistake, and I’m sorry.” His words sounded genuine. For a change, she thought, still bitter.

She smiled coldly, knowing it didn’t reach her eyes. “Funny how those words eluded you a year ago, isn’t it? I’m seeing someone, Seth, and he has the advantage of a good heart. If you want to hear that I forgive you, you’re out of luck, but I  _ am _ over you.”

"I need to tell you-"

"Save it. Please." And she left him standing in the rain, staring after her. 

*******

TOM: Goodnight, lovely Lara.x

LARA: Goodnight. I’ll be disappointed not to wake up to find you in my bed tomorrow.x


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lara meets Tom's brother, William, and his family.
> 
> Lara thinks she's falling in love.

For the next week, Lara managed to avoid Seth. To give him his due, he didn’t seek her out. Perhaps he’d come to terms with the fact that she was out of his reach. Permanently.

Was she slightly curious about why he’d come to her a year later? Yes. But did she want to jeopardise the nice life she’d carved out for herself by asking him what he wanted? Of course not. She’d rather eat her big fat book collection. Without condiments.

By the time Sunday rolled around, she missed Tom something chronic. Late night texts and stolen phone conversations between his shifts weren’t enough. She missed the way he smelled, the way his eyes lit up when he spoke. The feel of his arms around her.

“I want to crawl inside him and curl up and just nap,” she told Kitty as they tidied the shop on Saturday evening.

Kitty righted a box of knocked-over Christmas paper, stacking the most popular rolls - showing a pug wearing a santa hat on a pink background - on the top. “I’m so happy for you.”

“I sense a but incoming.”

Kitty shrugged. “No. Well, a bit. He’s moving to another country soon and I want you to be careful. Okay?”

“Okay. Well, actually, no. I think I’m already in love. I know, I know,” she added hastily, returning a copy of  _ Jane Eyre _ to the correct shelf. “But Kitty. What’s the point in a relationship unless you jump in feet first? Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

Kitty smiled. “I really love that about you - and I say this knowing that I am the one who started this whole thing off between you - but I just want you to bear it in mind, that’s all. Distance puts a strain on things. I’d hate to see you hurt.”

Lara pondered on that as she waited for Tom in the yawning concourse of Paddington station. This early, it was still cold, and on a Sunday, mainly tourists and people on their way to or from work around the city. She sipped her coffee, a creamy pumpkin latte (‘twas the season, after all), and watched the pigeons fight over someone’s discarded Cafe Nero croissant.

“Penny for them?”

It was the exact same thing he’d said to her, that chilly day in the park when she’d decided to give their relationship a real go, and Lara blinked suddenly wet eyes as she turned to see him.  _ Fuck _ , but he cut a fine figure in a slate grey coat and black and white woolly scarf, his long legs clad in darkwash jeans. She offered her face up to him and he kissed her, his lips warm. He tasted of mint and the sharp bite of coffee, and Lara thought that she could kiss him every day, forever, and never be tired of the taste.

“You’re a lovely thing to see early in the morning. Dr H.”

His grin was sharp, and sweet, his eyes soft as his gaze held hers. “I wish I’d seen you even earlier. Beside me as I opened my eyes.” He drew her into a warm embrace, careful not to jiggle her coffee cup. Lara breathed him in, pressing her face into the curve where his neck met his shoulder. He was long and lean and solid and he felt  _ so good. _ She wanted him naked. Under her. Over her. Inside her. Any way she could get him.

“Tell me you’re on a late shift tomorrow.”

He smiled against her hair. “I’m on a late shift tomorrow.”

“Come back home with me? After?”

He nodded, and she felt the unmistakable beginnings of an erection stir against her thigh. “Is that a thermometer in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?”

He choked out a laugh and kissed her temple. “How I missed you this week.”

Lara opened her mouth to say something about Edinburgh, but then thought better of it. No. She wouldn’t allow it to invade. In any way.

Holding hands, they slid into their seats on the train. The guard blew his whistle and they were carried into the countryside. The gentle rolling of the train carriage made Tom sleepy, and after a few minutes Lara noticed him leaning against the window, his eyes closed. She snuggled into him, letting him rest, drinking in his scent, admiring his long lashes against his high cheekbones. 

“I think I love you,” she whispered into the shoulder of his coat, letting the wool absorb the words. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

Another five minutes and she gently woke him. As they disembarked on to the platform, Lara spotted a face exactly like Tom’s, only topped with longer hair, and with more adorable crows’ feet around his eyes.

He waved, grinning as Tom led Lara forward.

“I was beginning to forget what you looked like,” the older man joked as he embraced Tom.

“Yes well. We can’t all save lives for a living,” Tom deadpanned. “Will, this is Lara. Lara, this is my brother, Will. He’s older. I’m sure it’s obvious.”

“Not at all.” Lara laughed and accepted Will’s outstretched hand. He surprised her by pulling her in for a warm hug - this family were obviously  _ good _ at hugs and easy affection, and the thought made her heart swell. “Welcome, Lara. Try to enjoy the quiet of the short car journey before we enter the absolute  _ bedlam  _ that is my home.”

Tom sat in the front of Will’s sleek black Golf GTI as he steered the car through country roads to his home. Lara listened contentedly as the two brothers caught up, ribbing each other good naturedly. It reminded her that she needed to call her Mum. They spoke on the regular, but Lara hadn’t mentioned Tom, mostly because her mum had been in pieces when Lara and Seth had broken up. Lara knew her mum had picked up ninety percent of the jagged edges from the break-up fallout, and she didn’t want to worry her mum unduly. Even though she was beginning to suspect that if she and Tom parted ways, she’d never stop grieving.

The excited barking of dogs greeted them as Tom opened the car door for Lara. She stepped out to the expectant faces of two children, one boy and a girl, and a giant Schnauzer whose tail wagged at a hundred miles an hour.

“Hi!” the children chorused in unison at her. They then proceeded to try to climb Tom, shouting excitedly and mostly incoherently. He took it gamely, hefting the boy under his arm, surfboard style, as the girl scrambled up to sit on his shoulders.

“B gentle with him,” Will said mildly to his children. “He’s getting on in years.”

“You’re all talk, old man,” Tom shot back as he carried both children, squealing in delight, to the house, the dog trotting at his heels. Lara hung back and watched them, her heart squeezing in her chest. She was looking at what might be a window into her future, if things went well. If Tom’s transfer to Edinburgh didn’t rock the foundations of their fledgling venture.

“Thanks for coming,” Will said by her side.

“Of course.” Lara stuffed her hands in her pockets.

He cast her a smile, and she noticed his grin was slightly more crooked than Tom’s, but no less charming. “It’s been a long time, since Tom brought someone here. Don’t worry,” he added, his tone warm. “I’m not going to give you the Spanish Inquisition. I just thought you should know, if he’s brought you to meet us, on a day off - rare for a doctor, as I’m sure you know - it means something.”


End file.
